
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Copyright 1897 
by 

CONTINENTAL PUBLISHING CO. 


PREFACE. 


The story of “Boss” is a photograph 
taken from the memory of those who were 
members of the household and witnesses 
of the events described, and is true in all 
essential features, except that fictitious 
names of persons and places are substi- 
tuted in the narrative for the real ones. 

I have endeavored to give the story its 
appropriate setting, describing the region 
in which the incidents transpired, inter- 
spersing them with the folk-lore, the jests, 
the anecdotes, and the local expressions 
which gave color to the daily life of the 
people of that neighborhood. 

The sacrifices which they made on the 
altar of their divinity. Honor, may seem 
exaggerated to those removed by time and 
distance from the scene. They were true, 
nevertheless, and those who refused to 
worship at that shrine could not wear the 
badge of the “ F. F. V.” in the halcyon 
days of the Old Dominion. 

Odette Tylee, 


New York, 1895. 


BOSS 


CHAPTEE I. 


“TiddyBoy ! Tiddy Boy! You dawg 
you ! why don’ you an’ser ? Fo’ Gord, I 
lif’ yo’ by yo’ leg an’ beat yo’ brains out.” 
“ Heah ez me.” 

“ Ez yo’ cornin’ ? ” 

“lez.” 

‘ ‘ Tote y o’ feet quicker ! Ez yo’ cornin’ ? 
I jes’ ax yo’ — ez yo’ ? ” 

“ Heah ez me, I tell yo’ ; heah ez me. 
Cindy, yo’ ez mon’sus onreasonable nohow. 
How yo’ specks me to clean de Cun’l’s — ” 
“Hush yo’ mouf, yo’ nigger — dat’s de 
on’ylest excuse yo’ got ! De Boss want 
her haws Sweetbrier ; she say she ez de 
freshest dis mornin’. Name o’ Gord, I 
nuver see sich a man ! She don’ tole yo’ 
las’ nite she want ’er early in de momin’, 


6 


BOSS, 


an’ heah yo’ ez, stanin’ axin’ mo’ questions. 
O Lordy, dyah ez de Boss now ! Yo’ better 
hump yo’sef, nigger. He ! he ! He don’ 
run all de way to de stable wid he haid 
down.” 

“What’s the joke, Mammy?” asked 
the Boss ; “you’re scolding Uncle Rufus 
again.” 

“ Gord, honey, dat ez de fust time I see 
dat nigger run sence de wa’. He ! he I 
It sut’n’y am cu’yus how mons’us lazy 
dat man ez. Whew ! I laf’ so, meh haid 
feels like it ’a’ tryin’ to bus’.” 

Mammy stood holding her sides, panting 
for breath. Though she still retained a 
large muscular frame, seventy years had 
furrowed her black face. A cheerful 
disposition and plenty of good food, how- 
ever, had served to keep away many other 
evidences of old age. A red bandanna 
crowned her ebony forehead, and impart- 
ed an air of dignity to her countenance ; 
while her great black eyes beamed with 
honesty, and between her red lips could 
be seen two sets of white teeth. She 
had a “ tol’rance for her ’ole man, Tiddy 
Boy,” but she adored “ Little Missy,” the 
Boss. 

‘ ‘ Hain’t I don’ brung de chile up ? Hain’t 


BOSS. 


7 


I nuss her at meh own bres ’ — she an’ 
Cerity ? An’ hain’t hit look like I don’ give 
de bes’ milk to little Missy, fur she was 
straight like a baccy-plant, while Cerity 
wuz crooked an’ ailin’. Hain’t I dress her 
fur her fust party, an’ fix her hyah mehse’f ? 
Her hayh dat look like bronze boots, when 
de sun shine on ’em. An’ when she wuz 
all th’o’ an’ stood dar, lookin’ sweet as 
candy, didn’ she put dat little red mouf of 
hum, dat had sich a queer way of curlin’ 
up at de corners, to her Mammy’s black 
face, an’ kiss her onst, an’ den kiss her 
agin ? An’ who wuz hit dat teach her to 
sing dem nigger songs ? Why, yer black 
Mammy, ob cose.” 

She was careful never to say anything 
of the long lessons in swimming and whis- 
tling, with Uncle Eufus as teacher — lessons 
given until the Boss could outstroke the 
old man, and out whistle a flageolet. 

Mammy considered such accomplish- 
ments “ onnecessary,” and many was the 
jawing Uncle Eufus got for “puttin’ sich 
onery notions in de chile’s haid.” 

Nevertheless, the Boss grew up tall and 
straight, with white skin and gray eyes, 
shaded by dark, thick lashes. She danced 
like a Frenchwoman, rode like an Indian, 


8 


BOSS. 


and was as much at home in the river as 
on the lawn. At every ball, skating tour- 
nament and fox-hunt, the Boss was the 
acknowledged leader. 

“ Is it long before breakfast. Mammy ? ” 
asked the Boss. 

‘ ‘ Mos’ two hours, honey ; I’ll git yo’ a 
snack.” 

“Do; I am full of emptiness. Hurry 
up. Mam ; yonder comes Sweetbrier.” 

The black woman glanced over her shoul- 
der and grinned satirically. 

‘ ‘ Um — m, dat nigger he ain’ ’sturbed dis 
mawnin’ — no, indeedy.” 

The girl placed one of her little brown 
hands, which terminated in oval pink nails, 
against Mammy’s rough cheek. 

“ You worship Uncle Rufus — you know 
you do. When he had the fever, you 
would not let even Cerity wait on him,” 
the Boss laughed wickedly. 

The negress drew herself up to her huge 
proportions, and replied : “ Go-long, chile I 
I jes’ tolerates him — dat’s all ; jes’ tolerates 
him,” and then glided through the baize 
door into the pantry. Presently she re- 
turned, carrying a tray, which was placed 
on the top step and the dishes spread out — 
a bit of Virginia ham, a bowl of clabber, a 


BOSS. 9 

cup of yellow cream, and a plate of beaten 
biscuits. 

The Boss watched the old woman with 
alert, confident eyes. 

“That'll do — that’s enough. Um — m. 
Mammy 1 it certainly is good,” said she, 
hastily swallowing morsel after morsel 
with sighs of delight. 

The old woman regarded her in dignified 
silence. 

“Don’ eat no mo’, honey; yo’ won’ 
enjoy yo’ break’us when yo’ come back. 
We ez got fried chicken dis mawnin’ — 
an’ woffuls.” 

The Boss shook the crumbs from her lap 
and slipped her hands into her riding- 
gloves. 

“ All right. Uncle Rufus,” she called 
out, “ bring — Sweetbrier — here — I’ll — 
mount — from — the — steps . 

“ Hullo, beauty — steady ! ” 

The mare lowered her handsome head as 
the Boss felt her way down her cheek and 
nose, and talked to her in that caressing 
tone to which a horse is most susceptible. 

Sweetbrier was a sorrel thoroughbred, 
fifteen hands high, and full of fire, but 
without a superfiuous ounce of flesh. Her 
skin was soft and pliant as a woman’s. 


IQ 


BOSS. 


“Uncle Eufus, hold your hand. Now, 
one, two, three — that’s it ! You’ve got on 
the curb. Steady, my beauty ; you are 
feeling fit as a fiddle this morning, aren’t 
you ?” 

As the Boss galloped down the road she 
was followed by an army of dogs, swarm- 
ing helter-skelter over the fences, and 
joining in one glorious bark as she sang, — 

“ I went to see Ginny when my work was done, 
And she put the hoecake on, my love ; 

And Ginny put the hoecake on, 

But Master saunt and called me away, 

’Fore Ginny got the hoecake done, my love — 
’Fore Ginny got the hoecake done.” 

“I teached herdat,” remarked Mammy, 
with conscious pride. 

“Who teached her to sit on her haws 
like a circus gal ? I ax you dat ? ” 

“ Um — m, nigger, dat’s nufiin’ to de way 
she can sing.” 


BOSS. 


11 


CHAPTER II. 


The Cameron homestead lay on the sum- 
mit of a hill, which rose suddenly out of 
broad low lands skirting the river. From 
the front windows one had an unob- 
structed view of the James, which wound 
in and out the valley below like a silver 
serpent. The river was dotted with tiny 
islands and checkered with huge rocks 
rising precipitously from the clear water. 
On the brows of adjacent hills a number 
of homesteads displayed gray and dilapi- 
dated fronts — sad reminders of the decay 
of former wealth. Across the river lay 
Buckingham. 

Somebody once facetiously remarked 
that “ like a singed cat, it was better than 
it looked.” 

The dwelling-house and negro quarters 
were of wood, painted white, with slate 
roofs and green blinds. To the left of the 
house was a red brick cottage, thirty by 
twenty feet, with two apartments — a par- 


12 


BOSS. 


lor and bedroom. The walls were mantled 
with Virginia creeper, and around one side 
ran a small balcony, overlooking a vege- 
table garden. 

The plantation had been the property of 
the Camerons for three generations. From 
time to time additions had been made, 
until now it presented an imposing out- 
lay. The brick cottage was the exclu- 
sive property of Lucius Strange. He had 
built it five years ago, after the death of 
his father, a friend of the Colonel’s youth. 

Returning from a trip around the world, 
which was made after leaving the Uni- 
versity, Lucius had taken up his resi- 
dence with the Camerons. He was the only 
son of Judge John D. Strange, of Virginia, 
and from his earliest recollections had been 
impressed with the fact that he must fol- 
low in the footsteps of his ancestors. The 
sudden death of his father, however, 
upset all of his plans, and he returned 
home, after a two years’ absence, to content 
himself with the common-place life of a 
farmer. 

Lucius had inherited the gift of elo- 
quence from his parent, and in all the 
leagues and clubs was the first to be 
called upon to address the audience. 


BOSS. 


13 


Over in the “ big house,” the family was 
enlarged by the presence of Bob Schuyler, 
the orphan son of Colonel Cameron’s sister 
and Gaston Glen Schuyler. Miss Patsy 
Cameron had been the famous beauty of 
the family, and had died immediately after 
the birth of her son. Upon her deathbed, 
the Colonel had promised that, if he be- 
came the father of a girl, the two should 
be united, thus retaining in the family the 
Cameron lands. With this assurance her 
young life had passed away, following the 
hero husband, who had bravely met his 
death at Gettysburg. 

Colonel Cameron was well over six feet, 
slender, but superbly proportioned. He 
was just sixty, with a profusion of bushy 
white hair, covering his large finely shaped 
head, which was carried a little to one side. 
The eyebrows were white and heavy, be- 
neath which gleamed a pair of eyes, full- 
orbed and piercing as an eagle’s. His 
mouth could be tender and winsome as a 
woman’s, and every movement showed 
the culture of his character. He despised 
deception and adored truth. A lie aroused 
his anger, which was cold and cutting ; 
and he was implacable to those unfortu- 
nate enough to merit his disdain. 


14 


BOSS. 


The Boss drew rein suddenly, as a young 
man slowly made his way across a tract 
of stubbly vegetation. He had not heard 
the approaching beat of the horse’s hoofs 
on the soft earth. His head was down, 
as, with his whip, he carelessly tapped his 
boots, red with the dust of a long tramp. 
Coming nearer to the Boss, he raised his 
head and looked curiously up at the sun. 
His face showed a Southern type, decidedly 
Creole, The forehead was low and broad ; 
the eyes were large, dark and penetrating, 
emphasized by broad, black brows, and the 
mouth was hidden by a heavy moustache. 
Both in his face and figure, superb health 
and great physical strength were displayed ; 
he was tall and supple, and bore the un- 
mistakable evidences of a gentleman. 

“Good-morning, Lucius,” cried the Boss, 
her face lighting up and her eyes flashing. 
“You look as if you were plotting some 
deadly enterprise. Are you ? ” 

Just then the young man caught sight 
of the girl on horseback. His face flushed 
lightly, and he caught his breath as if he 
had been running fast. Eaising his hand, 
he took off the slouched hat and stood with 
his handsome head bare. 


BOSS. 


15 


“Good-morning,” he replied simply, as 
he sprang over the low fence that separated 
them. “I didn’t know you were out. 
Glorious day, isn’t it ? ” 

The Boss pursed up her lips and looked 
at the immense expanse of blue sky, 
through which the sun, like a huge ball, 
was beginning to blaze. 

“That depends.” 

“ It’s time we planted our corn, for the 
dogwood is already blossoming,” said the 
man slowly. “We ought to have a fine 
crop this year. You must have ridden 
hard. The Brier looks heated.” 

“ I did,” said the Boss. “You see,” 
pulling the bridle, “ I had them put on the 
curb. She has a hard mouth. Are you 
riding ? ” 

The man shook his head. “By the 
way,” he said, “ I brought you that book 
you wanted from Richmond. I read two 
or three chapters on the train coming 
over. Didn’t think much of it, though, 
for the girl marries the wrong chap.” 

The Boss leaned forward in her saddle 
and flicked a fly off Sweetbrier’s ear. 

“ Is that so strange ? I have heard of 
such things in real life. Haven’t you ? ” 

“ She spoke quite low, scarcely as if she 


16 


BOSS. 


intended him to hear, as her eyes followed 
the jagged ends of the mountains. Sud- 
denly she looked down at him and 
laughed frankly. 

“ I bet you began at the end, like the 
Chinese, and read backwards. You are 
impetuous, Lucius. Your temperament 
wants taming. You are always antici- 
pating. Why don’t you take Bob as a 
pattern ? He never anticipates or gets 
nervous. I don’t actually believe a bomb 
could disconcert him. Dear old boy,” she 
concluded tenderly. 

The man struck at the air with his whip. 
“ If we are going back for breakfast, I 
reckon we had better start.” 

Presently the Boss bent over and touched 
his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. 

“Don’t be cross, Lucius,” she said. 
“We haven’t so much time together that 
we can afford to spend it quarrelling. 
Well, what are you thinking of ? ” she 
continued, looking at him sharply. 

But the man did not reply. 

“ Come, won’t you tell me ? ” she asked 
curiously. 

“Yes, if you insist,” he replied gravely. 
“ Boss, I was coveting my neighbor’s 
goods.” 


BOSS, 


17 


The girl’s face grew hard and white. 
A deep tone had come into her gray eyes ; 
it made them look tragic. She tried to 
laugh, but failed. She steadied herself a 
moment, for the saddle seemed to be turn- 
ing. Then she spoke, but her voice was 
low and hoarse. 

“ How dare you speak to me so ? You, 
who pride yourself on your Southern chiv- 
alry ! I thought you were his friend. Do 
you know,” she went on cruelly, “ what 
Bob ought to do ? He ought to shoot you ! 
The betrayal of a friend is the act of a 
coward.” 

The man’s teeth struck against each 
other with an odd, dry sound. 

“ I wish to God he would. Don’t — 
don’t say anything more ! Be merciful.” 

But he was talking to deaf ears. The 
Boss had put whip to her horse. For a 
moment only he saw a firm, resolute figure, 
erect and as straight as a candle ; then 
the top of a red hill, far away. 

2 


18 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER III. 


The next evening the Colonel held a 
small levee on the broad piazza. One 
huge glass of “ julep” had already found 
an eloquent obituary; another, filled with 
long, glistening leaves, rested upon the 
railing in front of him. 

The Boss looked cool and fresh in a dot- 
ted Swiss gown, with elbow-sleeves and 
three tiny bias ruffles on the skirt. She 
lay indolently back in a low deck-chair. 

At the other end of the piazza, with arms 
folded on the thin rail, and the stem of 
a dogwood pipe between his lips, lounged 
Bob Mathews. He was young and good- 
looking, but extremely languid. A yellow 
pongee shirt, a pair of white fiannel trou- 
sers, and a tie, in which glistened a dia- 
mond-pin, completed his outfit. For a 
moment his great blue eyes rested with 
lazy admiration upon the figure of the 
girl, whose hair was tipped with gold by 
the setting sun. 


BOSS. 


19 


“ Yes, siree ! ” exclaimed the Colonel, in 
his soft Southern voice. “ Everybody 
around here was scarred sho’ nouf. They 
thought the end of time had come. It was 
what they called a meteoric fall ; looked 
like all the stars in the heavens were drop- 
ping. Taylor Gauff’s nigger Tom woke 
his master up about twelve o’clock, holler- 
ing, ‘ Massa, Massa ! de judgment-day am 
come, sho’. Taylor Gauff got up and went 
to the window and looked out into the 
darkness. ‘ Go to bed, you damn fool,’ he 
said. ‘ Who ever heard of the judgment- 
day in the middle of the night ? * Ha — 
ha, Gauff was a blood, I tell you — he was 
one of Mosby’s men. I recollect one night 
I was carrying despatches from General 
Beauregard to General Johnston to tell 
him that the Federal army was advanc- 
ing, when I came upon fifteen guerrillas. 
I just saluted and passed on, when lo and 
behold ! yonder came a Yankee colonel, 
driving an ambulance. He was a Dutch- 
man. I knew those boys would make him 
hump, so I drew up to watch the fun. 
Lordy, I never shall forget the scared look 
on that blue-nosed Yankee, when Gauff 
drew out a Colt’s navy revolver and held 
it in front of his face. ‘None of your 


20 


BOSS, 


damned tea-table talk,’ said he, ‘ but give 
me your watch and pocket-book ! ’ By 
God, sir, those were great days ! Yes, 
siree,” the Colonel gazed straight ahead 
of him, into a past as deep as the valley 
beyond. 

“Po-pa,” said the Boss, straightening 
out her white arms and holding them 
above her head as rigid as bars of steel, 
“ did you think, when the war began, that 
we were going to get whipped ? ” 

“I protest,” said Bob, yawning; “for 
the Lord’s sake don’t unfurl that gory flag. 
Come, walk. Boss ? Down in the summer- 
house — it’s cool.” 

The girl did not condescend to answer, 
but only shook her head. “ Where is 
Lucius ? ” she asked, turning to her 
father ; “ I haven’t seen him since sup 
per.” 

“ Don’t know,” the Colonel replied 
slowly, knitting his brows. “ Reckon he’s 
gone to the stables. Something’s ailing 
the boy lately. Last night I heard him 
thrashing about in his cottage ; it must 
have been nearly two o’clock ; then he 
went out and slammed the door. I don’t 
think he came back until daybreak.” 

The Boss sat very still ; then she threw 


BOSS, 21 

her head haphazard against the back 
of the chair. 

Bob gently knocked the ashes from his 
pipe over the side of the railing. 

“ He smokes too much strong tobacco ; 
it’s affecting his nerves. I tell you what, 
Boss,” he said, “ he oughter fall in love 
with you for a change. You’d cure him 
devilish quick ; wouldn’t she. Colonel ? ” 

Again that sudden twinge. She had 
felt it yesterday morning, while talking to 
Lucius in the road. 

Suddenly the Boss jumped up and shook 
her skirts, then nestled down behind her 
father’s chair. She put her arms around 
his neck, and pulled his head back against 
her shoulder. The girl was determined 
not to think — not even to allow any dis- 
tinct recollection of yesterday to enter her 
mind. 

“ Po-pa,” she said, talking hurriedly, as 
if to dull importunate aches, ‘ ‘ tell us some 
more about the war ; some anecdotes — 
anything. I want to be amused. It’s too 
warm to think for one’s self ; you are al- 
ways so interesting,” she added sweetly. 

The Colonel couldn’t help smiling. ‘ ‘ You 
are a little flatterer, ’Huckle,” he said, 
“ but a mighty sweet one.” 


22 


BOSS. 


Both Bob and the Boss laughed h3artily. 

“ An exchange of artillery, Colonel,” 
said Bob. 

The Boss pinched the Colonel’s ear. 
“Now who’s the flatterer, Po-pa ? ” She 
looked down the path. The gate sepa- 
rating the barnyard from the lawn shut 
with a distant clang. Her arms instinct- 
ively tightened about her father’s neck. 

Bob followed the direction of the girl’s 
eyes, without raising his head, and smiled. 

“ Hello ! there’s Lucius.” He made a 
hollow over his mouth with his two hands, 
and in a peculiarly winning voice cried 
out, “La, la ! poop, poop !” It was the 
call of the homestead . 

The man responded with a wave of his 
hand in the air. 

“ He is an uncommonly well-built fellow, 
and is as good as he looks,” said Bob quite 
as if he were talking to himself. 

Low as were the words, the Boss heard. 
A queer little light flickered in her gray 
eyes for one second ; then it was gone. 
Presently she went over and sat down 
beside Bob. Her manner was peculiarly 
gentle and quiet. 

After a while, when Lucius had comfort- 
ably seated himself in an easy-chair. Uncle 


BOSS, 23 

Eufus came out with an encore of “ju- 
leps.” 

“ Rufus,” said the Colonel, “ I want you 
to ride over to Buckingham to-morrow and 
see about those chickens.” 

“Yes, seh,” answered Rufus with a 
grimace. 

“ What’s the matter now ? ” 

“ Nuttin’, seh.” 

“ I know,” said Lucius, laughing under 
his breath. “Rufus says Buckingham 
ain’t fit for hogs to root in.” 

“ Did you say that ? ” asked the Colonel 
sternly. 

Rufus looked solemn. 

‘ ‘ Answer me, sir ! ” thundered the Colo- 
nel. 

“ I don’ know nuttin’ ’bout dat, seh. 
But I did say dat Gord had some poor dirt, 
an’ a han’ful o’ rocks, an’ he trow’d ’em 
down, an’ dar wuz Buck’n’ham.” 

“Go along about your business !” ex- 
claimed the Colonel. ‘ ‘ Here ! Come back, 
you black rascal ! How did you get that 
rabbit I saw hanging up on your cabin- 
door ? ” 

“ I seed him down in de woods, Massa, 
an’ I jes’ popped up meh gun and shot him 
th’o de lef’ ear an’ de right bin’ foot.” 


24 


BOSS. 


“ What ? ” cried the crowd in a chorus. 

Rufus blew out his nostrils like a trom- 
bone. His cheeks looked like dried per- 
simmons. He smacked his thick lips and 
regarded the Colonel with a benign smile. 

‘ ‘ You see, Marse Cun’l, jes’ as I up wid 
meh gun, dat onery rabbit scratched he 
lef’ ear wid he right bin’ foot an’ pop go de 
gun, an’ of cose de bullet don’ go clean th’o’ 
he lef’ ear an’ he right bin’ foot.” 

The Colonel shook his fist and ordered 
Rufus away. 

Rufus grinned, made a low bow and 
shufiled into the house, leaving an echo of 
his loud, squeaking boots behind. When 
he had disappeared the Colonel burst into 
a loud fit of laughter. 

“ Um — m, Lordy, you can’t beat him. 
That reminds me of an old nigger my 
father owned. Jefferson Washington 
Cameron was his name. Jefferson was a 
white-headed old rascal, whose life was one 
protracted drunk. Just before he died, he 
got religion and became a Baptist preacher. 
His first sermon was on drink. He wanted 
to show the congregation that God did not 
advocate abstemiousness, and as an ex- 
ample gravely pointed to the Bible. ‘ Hi 
— look hyah,’ said he; ‘look th’o’ de 


BOSS. 


25 


Bible from de beginnin’ o’ de verse to Rev- 
olutions, dyah am only one man what 
axed fur water, an’ he am in hell, whar he 
oughter be.” 

A chorus of laughter greeted the story. 

The Boss held out her two little brown 
hands to Bob. 

“Pull me up, and I’ll play to you. 
Come into the parlor. Never mind the 
lamp ; I can see well enough.” 

As she passed Lucius’ chair, a tiny wisp 
of her sleeve brushed over his face. He 
raised his head suddenly. They looked 
steadily into each other’s eyes. 

“Better come, too,” said Bob, over his 
shoulder. 

Lucius shook his head. “I reckon I’m 
pretty comfortable where I am.” 

Through the distant bay-trees the sun 
was setting. No sound, save the shrill 
neigh of an impatient horse, or the hoarse 
croaking of a frog, broke the stillness. A 
scarlet light flooded the broad piazza, il- 
luminating the figure of the Colonel. Both 
men were silent. Lucius pulled heavily at 
his cigar, but seemed in no mood to talk 
to anybody. 

Suddenly, from the direction of the par- 
lor, came a voice, soft and sweet as the 


26 


BOSS. 


vapor of incense ; it increased in volume 
till the purple twilight itself was filled. 
One by one the notes rose till they seemed 
to reach the sky above. Unconsciously 
the two men yielded to the seduction of the 
hour. 

“ From the soul of an angel,” Lucius said 
to himself. 

A reminiscent dream inspired the Colo- 
nel. He felt the fingers of a soft little 
hand creep into his own, and saw amid a 
mass of chestnut curls a pair of violet eyes 
that flashed through a mist of tears. The 
vision glided on, as the soft voice of the 
Virginia girl poured itself out upon the 
evening air. 

“ My God ! ” Lucius inwardly exclaimed, 
dropping his face into his hands. 

“Another! Another I ” cried Bob. 
“Give us a nigger song this time, Boss. 
That’s a dear girl. The other was pretty, 
but rather depressing.” 

‘ ‘ All right, ” laughed the Boss. ‘ ‘ Here’s 
one for you especially, but you’ll have to 
get the banjo. It’s over in the corner 
behind the sofa. Thanks I It’s almost in 
tune. There, now,” and she rattled off 
that brilliant though trite ditty, “ Juggity 
Jug”: 


noss. 


27 


“Juggity Jug ! 

Whar’s dat jug ? 

Juggity Jug I 

Old stone jug ! 

Juggity Jug ! 

Broken-mouthed jug. 

Juggity Jug ! 

Old whisky-jug. 

Juggity Jug I ” 

“ That’s my taste, is it ? ” exclaimed Bob 
laughing. “ You vixen ! I’ll pay you out 
for it.” 

Lucius heard a smothered cry of impa- 
tience and a sound that made him snap his 
teeth together. 

“What’s up ? ” asked the Colonel. 

“ Nothing,” replied the man. “ I just 
killed a mosquito.” 

“ They’re pretty bad to-night,” inno- 
cently remarked the Colonel. 

Inside the parlor, by the piano. Bob was 
saying, in a tone of adoration : ‘ ‘Sweetheart, 
I’m not half good enough for you ! ” Draw- 
ing his chair nearer to the girl, he con- 
tinued: “Boss, I reckon if you were to 
throw me over I would go plump to the 
devil.” 

“ So-o ? ” said the Boss, inconsequently. 
Through the window she could see the red 
spark at the end of Lucius’ cigar. She 


28 


BOSS. 


suddenly became conscious of a lump ris- 
ing in her throat. 

“Bob,” she said excitedly, quickly 
springing up and walking about the room, 
“ I don’t think I am a success, anyway. 
I wonder if we are suited to one another. 
Hold on a minute ! ” as she heard his low 
exclamation. “ We’ve known each other 
since we were so high.” 

She was behind him now, so that he 
could not see the movement, but he knew 
that she was measuring from the floor with 
her hand. 

‘ ‘ You’ve kind of grown accustomed to 
me. There is so much in — what do you call 
it ? Propinquity,” she went on musingly. 
“ Don’t you think so ? Perhaps, after all, 
if you were to go away, say abroad — stay 
there for a year — you might meet some 
other girl you like better. Suppose you 
try it,” she suggested softly. 

“Well, I swear,” said Bob, with good- 
humored roughness, leaning suddenly for- 
ward and looking at her with loving direct- 
ness. “ You ought to know me better. 
Although I am a lazy, good-for-noth- 
ing fellow, I’m not utterly devoid of 
human feeling. I love you, ‘ presch ’ (an 
abbreviation of his own for precious). 


BOSS. 29 

and shall never love any one else,” he 
added simply. 

The Boss resumed her seat at the piano. 
Her elbow, which fell upon the keys with a 
sudden passionate movement, produced a 
frightful discord . She was looking beyond 
and over him through the window. 

“I shall be so good to you, darling,” 
he continued, the languid tone taking on 
a sudden interest. “So devoted. You 
will have everything you want. I will 
be your slave. Boss, always, just as I 
have been since the Colonel gave you to me 
years ago, when you wore pinafores and 
your hair in a pig- tail. You don’t believe 
in me a bit. Never mind ; after we are 
married. I’ll force you to. Because I seem 
stupid and — ” 

The Boss jumped up. Impulsively she 
put out both hands to him, for she felt 
compunction. 

“Don’t abuse yourself any more, dear 
old honest boy. You’ve got me, and 
I’ll do the best I can by you.” Her 
under lip trembled in the darkness. “I 
hear Mammy,” she continued, indicating 
the sound of approaching footsteps. “ I 
wonder if Cerity is worse to-night ? ” 

“Miss Boss, honey, ez yo’ heah ?” 


30 


BOSS. 


inquired the negress, as her bandanna 
loomed up ghost-like beneath the lintel of 
the door. 

“ Yes, over by the piano. What is it ? ” 
“I’m dat anxious ’bout Cerity, honey. 
I kyahn’t git her to notice nuttin’ ; I done 
put de flat-iron to her feet, but she don’t 
act ’sponsible like. White folks say 
niggers don’t faint, but dat gal done faint 
four times dis mawnin’. De las’ time she 
done go off in one ob dem spells, when she 
come to, she mos’ jump out de chair, an 
she give a sort o’ cry. Fo’ Gord, I b’lieve 
Cerity done been conjured. She look 
mighty myster’us, honey, I tell yo’.” 

‘ ‘ Did you give her the blackberry brandy 
before supper. Mammy ? ” 

“Yes, honey, o’ cours’ I did. But it 
sut’n’y ez cu’yus it done do her no mo’ good 
dan hog food. Sut’n’y ez cu’yus, for hit 
meks me feel right pert.” 

“ Have you put her to bed ? ” asked Bob. 
“No, she’s laying’ dyahin de big rocker 
Massa Lucius sont her from his chamber, 
wid her haid on her pa’s arm. Dat 
nigger’s been ’neelin’ wid his arm roun’ her 
for mo’ dan an hour. He ain’ eat nuttin’ 
sence dinner. You kyahn’t put no ’pend- 
ance in him nohow. Massa Lucius ez 


BOSS. 


31 


mighty good ; he jes’ as ’fectionate as ef 
she b’longst to white folks. He sut’n’y ez 
good to dat nigger gal.” 

“ I’ll go back with you, Mammy. Per- 
haps if I sing to her we might get her to 
sleep.” 

It was late when the Boss closed the door 
of the little cabin where Cerity lay sleep- 
ing quietly. Just before leaving she heard 
Mammy say to Rufus, in what was in- 
tended to be a whisper : 

“ Come ’long, ole man, de supper ez 
settin’ on de table. I ez warm de cake 
over. Does yo’ feel cramped, honey ? ” 

The Boss smiled as she bade the old 
woman good-night, and added: “ Mind, 
Mammy, if she gets worse, call me at 
once.” As she stepped out into the dark- 
ness, a man’s figure crossed the patch of 
moonlight, and came swiftly towards her. 

It was Lucius. 

“ I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. 

The Boss regarded him languidly, with 
her gray eyes half closed. 

“ Thank you. I’m right tired to-night. 
Cerity was so hard to get to sleep ” (she 
smothered off a frown). “ Poor little fos- 
ter sister,” she continued, “ I reckon she’s 
going to die. Once or twice while I was 


32 


BOSS. 


singing she was seized with terrible pains 
in her side. It is strange that Cerity 
should be always ailing, and I’m such a 
healthy girl. “ Lucius,” she added softly, 
as her five fingers closed for a moment 
on his arm, “I want to apologize for 
what I said yesterday morning I’ve been 
mighty sorry ever since.” 

The man shook his head and answered 
slowly, “ My girl, there is nothing to be 
sorry for. You’ve always been good to 
me. Boss. I have been a better man for 
knowing you. The knowledge of this fact 
has given me more happiness than I ever 
imagined would fall to my lot.” Suddenly 
he reached out and placed her little hand 
within his arm. 

“ I had no right to speak as I did,” he 
continued. “ I want to say to you, honey, 
that I hope you will be very happy with 
dear old Bob. He loves you as much 
as — ” He was going to say “ as I do,” but 
changed his mind and added “ deeply.” 
“ He’s a mighty good fellow. Everybody 
likes him, and I’m sure he will make you 
a good husband.” His voice sank, but 
softened. “ I can’t think of you being 
a married woman, somehow, dear. Can 
you ? ” 


BOSS. 


33 


“ No,” she said, then paused. “ No, I 
can’t.” 

Then there was a moment of silence. 

The Boss waited, thinking there would be 
another word from him. Lucius was con- 
scious only of the girl beside him, in her 
white frock, with her head drooping close 
to his shoulder. He felt himself leaning 
over the fragrant braids of her hair. He 
almost kissed them with his lips. He im- 
agined it, or did she come a trifle closer to 
him ? The next instant he had raised his 
head. 

“ My girl,” he cried out passionately, 
“ what is love anyhow ? Define it. Is it 
to feel that you would do anything for the 
one you love, even to sacrificing your own 
peace of mind, and sending your soul to 
perdition ? Answer me. Boss ! ” 

She could not. Her lips moved as he 
had bidden her, but her voice was unin- 
telligible. She seemed to breathe the 
words, “ I don’t know.” 

Tears trembled in her eyes and ran down 
her pallid cheeks ; he raised her hand to 
his mouth. 

‘ ‘ I have made you cry, my girl. I ought 
to feel sorry, but I cannot — I cannot. So 
help me God ! ” 

3 


34 


BOSS. 


“Lucius! Lucius!” she pleaded. 
“ Please ! ” Her eyes were in his. Her 
lips were so parched that she could scarcely 
articulate. “ You must not — you must 
not !” 

“ Boss,” the tone was one of deep agony 
now. “ As God is my judge, I mean no 
disrespect to you — no wrong to my friend,” 
he went on hurriedly. “ I have tried to 
be silent, but I have failed. Let me fin- 
ish,” he whispered. “ It may relieve the 
anguish.” 

He struck his breast a sharp blow, as if 
to dispel a load, and then continued pas- 
sionately: “ I have loved you from the 
first. I think it was a sort of instinct. I 
love you so tenderly. Boss, that all my life 
seems as nothing beside it. Pity me ! 
Help me, honey ! I love you and I am to 
lose you.” 

He looked down at her, his face drawn 
with pain. 

“ I have felt many agonies, but none so 
great as this. Fate is making a hard reck- 
oning with me. I know I should have re- 
mained silent. It was the right and honor- 
able thing to do, but it was beyond my 
strength. God ! beyond human strength, I 
believe.” 


BOSS. 


35 


The girl seemed to be thinking. The 
fire in her eyes died away to a dull ash 
color. 

“Lucius, ’’she said pathetically, “I be- 
long to Bob. He is your friend.” She 
caught at her breast, as if it hurt her, and 
then continued : “I also am weak ; I can 
stand a good deal. Don’t tempt me.” 

“ My girl, you’re an angel,” he said, as 
he gazed deep down into the half -unwil- 
ling but wholly fascinating eyes. 

Through the night noises sounded the 
voice of the Colonel. They could see him 
standing on the piazza, the light of one 
dickering lamp-fiame, held high above his 
head, and falling on his snow-white hair. 

‘ ‘ Daughter, it is late. Time you were 
in bed. The wind has shifted, Lucius, and 
the glass is falling. We are going to have 
a storm to-night.” 

The Boss, in a dazed way, drew her 
hand across her forehead. 

“ Ah ! Is it so late ? Good-night,” and 
with a slight gesture of farewell she 
turned and left him. 

“Sweet dreams, my humming-bird,” 
said the Colonel, stopping her to kiss her 
forehead and hand, as she passed him on 
her way upstairs. 


36 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER IV. 


Mrs. Carter had bidden the “ Warren- 
ites ” to a tea. For some time the female 
portion of the community had concluded 
the work of extravagant preparation. 

Boxes filled with every conceivable 
style of pomp and vanity had been 
dragged out from dusty closets, and their 
contents scattered about in all directions. 
Old and young heads were close together, 
discussing the merits of different kinds 
of sleeve-patterns. 

There had been little discrimination 
shown in the selection of guests, major 
and minor ; in fact, all within the pale 
of gentility had been favored with an in- 
vitation. 

The cards read “ five o’clock.” 

The tea was to be given at Mrs. Carter’s 
homestead, one of the handsomest in 
Warren. From the great square hall, 
with its bewildering array of ancestors. 


BOSS. 


37 


the furniture had been carefully removed, 
the lawn arranged for tennis and croquet. 

The day broke in forces of yellow light, 
the weather had turned cooler, the air was 
crisp and delightful. 

As Colonel Cameron, the Boss and Bob 
drove up in a tandem, escorted by Lucius 
on Lucille, the mellow notes of the piano, 
coupled with the merry sounds of the 
fiddle, greeted their ears. 

Mrs. Carter, her white head bare, look- 
ing youthful to admiration, received them 
cordially at the foot of the steps. Though 
a little past middle age, she showed traces 
of beauty and dignity of manner that were 
most attractive. 

“ Come right up,” she said, in her charm- 
ing Southern way. “ Howdy, Colonel ? 
Boss, my child, give me a kiss. Clad to 
see you, Mr. Bob. You, too, Mr. Lucius. 
Washington, show the gentlemen where 
to put their things. Boss, come with 
me ; I reckon you’ll be glad to take off 
your hat.” 

Five minutes later the Boss stood ob- 
liquely, with her three - quartered face 
turned to the pier-glass that hung slanting 
from the wall in Mrs. Carter’s chamber. 
She was smoothing her hair, which pos- 


38 


BOSS. 


sessed a style of its own ; it ran away from 
her low forehead in drowsy little curls. 
Mrs. Carter looked with delight at the rich 
coloring in the girl’s face. 

“ Boss, you resemble your mother more 
every day, and she was the most superb 
creature I ever saw.” 

The girl regarded her with gratitude. 

“ Thank you, dear Miss Patsy,” she re- 
plied softly. “You couldn’t pay my 
father or me a higher compliment.” 

The Boss wore a clinging gown of some 
gauzy black material, bespangled with yel- 
yow butterflies, with only a streak of gold 
and a pendant of turquoise about her neck, 
and a tiara of turquoise and pearls over 
her brow. As they descended they found 
themselves imprisoned on the steps. A 
set of lancers was in full swing. A man look- 
ing as if he were forced into a new suit of 
yellow linen, with stiff, sandy locks glued 
down on both sides of his retreating fore- 
head, waved in his hand, like a banner, a 
purple-bordered handkerchief, as he cried 
out the flgures. 

“ Ladies to the centre ! Ladies, I said. 
A little livelier, please ! 

“ Swing yo’ corners I Back again ! 
Now, grand chain ! ” 


BOSS. 


39 


“ What do they look like ?” asked Lu- 
cius, close to the girl’s elbow. 

“ Lunatics ! ” she laughed, leaning over 
the balustrades. ‘ ‘ They look so warm and 
red. Do you see that man over there — 
the one without his vest, and the girl next 
to him wearing that magenta poplin ? 
Well, I heard him tell her just now that 
he wanted to gallop with her, and that he 
could sling her anywhar she wanted to be 
slung.” 

Lucius laughed heartily ; he had a keen 
sense of the ridiculous. 

“ Isn’t this a lark ? ” said Bob in his lazy 
drawl. “I just wish you could see Ben Buff, 
the dyke he’s on. He’s wearing a broad- 
brim hat and blue baize leggins. Dance, 
Boss ? 

“ Lucius, why don’t you ask Miss 
Daw ?” he continued. “ I tell you, she’s 
a dandy ! She belongs in Buckingham, 
you know. She told me just now she was 
‘ all over in a sweat, and pineapple - ice 
made her stomach ache, and she didn’t 
like chicken-salad because the meat stuck 
in her teeth.’ ” 

The Boss and Lucius both laughed. 

“A very descriptive tout ensemble^'' 
said Lucius. 


40 


BOSS. 


“Come along, Boss,” continued Bob 
airily. “I want to show these people 
what the art of dancing really is.” 

“ Listen to him,” laughed the Boss, rais- 
ing herself slowly. “ He talks like a Ken- 
tuckian.” 

The man looked at her wistfully. 

“ Your wit is so quick and original, my 
dear. You seem to feel my characteristics 
by instinct.” 

Boss curled her short lip disdainfully. 

“ Fiddlesticks ! ” 

“ Better take my advice, Lucius. There 
she is, over by the door — the one with the 
uncommonly jolly proportions.” 

“ Thank you. Bob,” murmured Lucius 
sarcastically. “ I wouldn’t think of de- 
priving you.” 

Bob dropped his arm about the Boss’ 
waist, and together they glided off. 

She danced with a wonderful air. Her 
little black satin toes crept in and out in 
exquisite time to the music, now fast, now 
slow. One by one the other couples 
stopped and lined the walls and steps to 
watch them. The girl was incomparably 
graceful. The folds of her black gown 
seemed to float about her, forming an 
undulating background to her loveliness. 


BOSS, 


41 


Lucius remained upon the steps, his 
passionate love beating full upon his brain. 
Once the girl looked up as they swept by. 
Their eyes met and clung in each other’s 
gaze. The wild blood mounted to his 
head, he fell against the balustrade like 
a drunken man. 

“Stop !” said the Boss panting, “I’m 
tired.” 

Bob exclaimed, “Glorious ! Oh the 
devil!” he continued, “here comes that 
Sawyer man. Will you come out on the 
lawn ? ” 

The girl answered quickly, “ Yes,” 

She hardly knew where he was leading 
her, being conscious only of that look from 
Lucius, which had been so short and yet 
so deliriously sweet. Suddenly she heard 
some one call her name in a quick, im- 
perative voice. 

“Boss ! Boss ! Dear, dear old girl ! I 
am so glad to see you again.” 

Two little arms went about her neck, 
and a crimson, panting mouth was pressed 
against her own. 

“ Meg Cozzens! You ! ” exclaimed Boss 
and Bob together. 

“ That’s about the size of it. Don’t open 
your eyes so big ; they make me feel quite 


42 


BOSS. 


bogey,” she declared, as she beamed upon 
them both with an ecstatic grin. 

“ Well, aren’t you glad to see me ? ” she 
asked petulantly. “At any rate, shake 
hands. Bob.” 

The Boss put her arms around the girl, 
and then kissed her delightedly. 

She was a slender little creature, with 
great glistening blue eyes and a thick mop 
of brown hair. Her hands were tiny, 
with small, nervous fingers that couldn’t 
stretch an octave. 

“ I don’t understand,” Boss said, “ what 
made you come back ? When did you get 
here ? How — ” 

“ Hold on. Sis,” said Meg. “ Give a 
fellow a show. I’ll answer in rotation. 
What made me come back ? I was a 
failure. As an actress I won’t do. I saw 
too many people who could do so much 
better than I that it discouraged me. 
When did I get here ? Two hours ago. 
Nobody expected me, and when I found all 
my kin had an invite to this tea, I decided 
to add my presence to the festive board.” 

“Well, I’ll be doggoned,” said Bob, re- 
garding her with affectionate interest. He 
liked Meg. She had been an especial pet of 
his years before she went away to become 


BOSS. 43 

an actress. “ How do you like the stage ? 
Did it come up to your expectations ? ” 

“Beastly !” answered Meg laconically. 

“ I say, Boss, you are prettier than ever. 
I tell you what, Bob, you couldn’t find a 
Yankee girl to touch her. You’d make 
up beautifully,” she continued, looking at 
Boss critically. “ Your eyes would look 
like wholesale moons with a little blue 
cosmetic under them.” 

“Blue!” said the Boss, her eyebrows 
travelling up her forehead; “I thought 
they always used black.” 

“Only amateurs use black,” answered 
Meg airily. “Blue softens, makes the 
eyes languishing — don’t you know ? How- 
ever, I’ve got my box with me, and I’ll 
make you up some day.” 

“You’ll have her stage-struck next, if 
you don’t mind,” laughed Bob. ‘ ‘But I say, 
Meg, did you come out all right ? I mean 
didn’t you fall in love with any of those 
footlight fellows ? ” 

Meg gave a sudden start, a vibration that 
seemed to pass from head to foot. It was 
over in an instant, but the Boss observed it. 

“ You are a goose, Bob,” Meg answered, 
in her most matter-of-fact tone. “ Jingo,” 
she cried, “ there’s the Colonel, and Lucius, 


44 


BOSS. 


too. He'd make a fine Romeo. By-bye, 
I’m going the rounds — first to kiss the 
Colonel, then to beat up my relations. 
Be over to-morrow to play tennis,” she 
called over her shoulder. “Got a dandy 
racket.” 

‘ ‘ Dear little Meg,” said the Boss tenderly, 
watching her disappear among the crowd 
of summer dresses. “ I certainly am glad 
to see her back. Queer, though. She says 
she was a failure. The last letter I got 
from her was full of enthusiasm, and — ” 

Just then Lucius came towards her with 
a plate of cream. 

“Bob, Mrs. Carter is looking for you ; 
wants you to feed the Daw,” he added 
gravely. 

The Boss took a spoonful of ice-cream 
and examined it. 

“Pineapple, I think,” Lucius said. 
“Looks cold, though I was afraid you 
would be warm after dancing.” 

A glow spread over her forehead, chin 
and throat. 

“You are very thoughtful. Did you get 
some for yourself ? ” she asked. 

“ No,” he answered curtly, “ I never eat 
sweets.” 

“What ! Why, ice-cream is the creed 


B0S8. 


45 


of our country. Thanks,” said the Boss, 
returning him the empty saucer. ‘ ‘ It was 
good. Will you walk a little ? It’s so 
much pleasanter outside.” 

Lucius hesitated. 

She smiled brilliantly upon him. 

“ Well, isn’t it ? Don’t you think so?” 

For a little while they walked back and 
forth in silence, and then paused upon an 
elevation behind the house. 

“ Picturesque, isn’t it ? ” asked the Boss, 
indicating the panorama with a wave of 
her little brown hand. 

They both gazed long ahead of them, and 
this is what they saw : A superb sky — a 
glimpse of the river between the hills, 
great patches of golden grain — a slumbrous 
pool of water — a profusion of wild flowers, 
a girl leading a gray donkey up a hill, and 
a stream of water by a tall bank. 

They heard a whip-poor-will calling, 
calling. Then, by some strange mesmeric 
power, their gaze turned simultaneously 
from the scene, and they stared into each 
other’s eyes for a second. 

The Boss felt helpless. Suddenly she 
seemed to collect her thoughts, but not a 
word was spoken. Lucius felt a cold chill 
pass over him and run down his back. 


46 


BOSS. 


“ Let’s walk on,” said the girl. 

“ Perhaps you’d like to go back to the 
house,” he muttered moodily. 

The Boss regarded him with surprise. 

“Thank you, I’m quite comfortable 
here.” 

Lucius walked beside her, with his head 
bent close to his breast. He was recalling 
the whole course of their acquaintance. 
It had an every-day, commonplace com- 
mencement, five years and a half ago. He 
remembered that she looked like a Niobe, 
all dripping with water. The boat had 
upset and she had fallen into the river. 
How she laughed and shook her long mane 
of Titian-copper hair when he advised her 
to hurry up and change, or she would take 
cold. With what admiration he had 
watched her, drawn to her superb youth 
in spite of himself. The admiration had 
begotten love, and now — 

Here the reverie was suddenly broken. 
A great golden butterfly, its wings just 
tipped with black, and little blue rings in 
the centre, poised upon his sleeve. 

“ Don’t let it go ! Oh, what a beauty ! ” 
cried the Boss. 

Lucius caught it, holding the dainty 
wings between his forefinger and thumb. 


BOSS. 


47 


“ What a curious little beggar ! Do 
you ever think how he come into the 
world ? A dull, senseless creature. Then 
he goes through a metamorphosis, and 
changes into an exquisite insect, literally 
pulsating with delight. And what a little 
epicure he is, to be sure I But take care, 
my young friend,” he said, addressing the 
butterfly, “all is not gold that glitters. 
Some day you’ll be lured by a poisonous 
plant ; then woe unto you ! A sip, and 
you are gone,” he climaxed gravely. 
“ There, bo off, you idler.” He opened his 
fingers, and the little creature turned 
giddily in the air above their heads, then 
he flew away mockingly. 

Lucius watched him and laughed. 

“ I think he knows more than he cares 
to tell. Of all animated nature they are 
certainly the most curious, except per- 
haps — ” he paused, and then added slowly, 
“Woman.” 

“What !’’ exclaimed the Boss opening 
her eyes with astonishment. “Why at- 
tribute that rather doubtful adjective to 
us exclusively ? I think the male portion 
of this world might lay claim to a small 
amount of that without trespassing upon 
our reserves.” 


48 


BOSS. 


“Do you ?” he answered gently, but 
showed no disposition to continue the argu- 
ment. So they walked on in silence. 

“ Meg has returned,” he said abruptly. 
“ Wasn’t that a surprise ? Did she write 
you she was coming back ? ” 

“No, I was as much astonished as you. 
I’m afraid she has been disappointed, 
somehow. Oh, no — not in the profession 
itself, but in the people she’s been thrown 
with. Meg is a true little woman, and you 
may be sure the cause was a good one that 
made her abandon her purpose,” she fin- 
ished loyally. 

“ Look here,” said Lucius, after one of 
those long periods of silence, his brown 
eyes fixed upon her lips. “ Are you going 
to live in Eichmond after your marriage ? ” 
He did not wince, but his face had a curi- 
ous expression, half fierce, half tender. 

“Yes,” she answered briefly. There 
was something the Boss wanted to say to 
him, but it was so hard to commence. 
Her eyes dropped. She moved restlessly, 
then changed the position of her head, as if 
trying to avoid his glance. 

“I want Bob to go in business,” she 
commenced. “I am going to try and in- 
cite him to a higher ambition. I want 


BOSS. 


49 


him to make the best and most of his life. 
He has rather a better start than most 
men — he has heart and brains ; and oh, I 
should be so proud to be a part of every 
success he developed ; I want him to be- 
come prominent by his own industry, for 
that is the kind of person I admire. 
Don’t you agree with me ? ” she asked, 
her eyes returning from the hills. 

The question brought no answer. 

Lucius’ face had taken on a haggard, 
white look. His heart was aching with a 
wild, passionate jealousy. His whole soul 
was reaching out to this slip of a girl, who 
was the property of his friend — his best 
friend, too. While he — God ! He caught 
his breath with a spasm that seemed 
almost a stab. 

“Your father — you will leave him 
here ? ” he added. It was an effort to speak 
at all. 

“Yes, that will be the hardest,” an- 
swered the Boss. “Ever since mamma 
died he has lived on the plantation. I 
don’t remember his ever leaving me for a 
day. You see I never knew a mother.” 

“There has been the same lack in my 
life as in yours,” answered Lucius. 

“Yes,” continued the girl, “I have 
4 


50 


BOSS. 


often wondered how it would have been 
if mamma had lived. I can’t remember 
even her face. Everybody says — besides, 
her pictures show it — she must have 
been very beautiful. She lived just long 
enough to give me a name — Mildred Lee 
Cameron, after the dear old General. It 
is twenty years in August since she died.” 

“ Twenty years ? ” 

“Yes. You must have been a very 
little boy then, Lucius. Why, you 
couldn’t have been more than eight years 
old. Can you remember as far back as 
that ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“You must have been a strong little 
fellow,” she continued thoughtfully. 

“Yes — I reckon I was.” He pushed 
back his hair and laughed, suddenly look- 
ing boyish and happy. He turned and 
examined her slowly from head to foot. 

“And you must have been a strong 
little girl.” They both smiled with amuse- 
ment. 

“ And have you no longing for the 
world, for the so-called city life ? ” Lucius 
continued, 

“ Not the least bit in the world. I have 
always imagined society in the city friv- 


BOSS. 


51 


olous and unprincipled. I am satisfied 
with my hills. Everything about here is 
so free, open, and honest,” she answered 
simply. Then she shaded her eyes with 
her hands. 

“ I love all this.” She turned suddenly 
toward him. The twilight had deep- 
ened into a soft purple. It gave his 
features a shadowy look. ‘ ‘ Do you know, 
Lucius,” she continued, “ I think you are 
throwing yourself away here, too. I have 
felt it for a long time. There seems to be so 
much more in you than just sitting down, 
praying for the rain to come, or cursing 
because the frost has killed your crops. I 
can’t tell what it is, but you seem out of 
your element. I can better imagine you 
as a great lawyer or a statesman — or — or 
— anything but just what you are.” 

“ God ! I guess you are right. Boss,” 
whispered the man. 

“I wish,” continued the girl gently, 
ignoring the interruption, “ that you would 
exert yourself, and start out into the work- 
a-day world of men and women. I know 
it’s hard to change the current of your old 
life— to make a vital change ; but you should 
conquer, not surrender. You ought to be 
a great man, Lucius. The secret of your 


52 


BOSS. 


success would be your individuality, your 
strength and great magnetism ; it would 
give you a wonderful influence over man- 
kind.” The Boss stopped for a moment, 
then continued: “A woman is a depen- 
dent sort of a creature that needs atten- 
tion and protection. It is different with 
a man. I wish you would consider what 
I am saying, by the light of your reason ; 
for you are doing an injury to society by 
hiding your talents here in these hills. 
God has endowed you with valuable gifts. 
He has meant that you should use them, 
not — ” She stopped helplessly, it was so 
difficult to express just what she wanted 
to say. 

“ Thank you, Boss,” Lucius interrupted, 
looking at her with yearning tenderness. 
He stopped her by raising his hand, when 
she would have continued. ‘ ‘ I appreciate 
all you say; but, my girl, I reckon you 
overestimate my abilities. It is not as if I 
hadn’t tried — I have. All the long years 
before I knew you, and the end is — what ? 
Why, I am a farmer, and I will be satis- 
fied until — you go.” He finished almost 
under his breath. 

The bay-trees grew taller in the fading 
light. The dogwood looked like white. 


BOSS, 


53 


waving arms on every side. Soon dark- 
ness tumbled its sable curtains over all the 
land, and night was upon them. 

“May I have a dance, Boss ?” Lucius 
asked gently. 

“Yes.” 

He offered his arm, which she took si- 
lently, and together they came in sight of 
Bob, walking slowly up and down, smoking 
a valedictory cigarette. 


54 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER V. 

High in the heavens rose the sun. It 
flooded the earth with a mellow light like 
yellow wine. A soft breeze, dashed with 
the scent of Virginia woods in full wild 
flower, and fresh turf — the perfume sweet, 
subtle, almost elusive, was expressed in 
the air. 

“Po-pa,” said the Boss. 

“Yes, humming-bird, what is it ?” 

“ Suppose a man — a person, you know,” 
the girl went on dreamily, ‘ ‘ were to give 
his word and then wanted to break it, 
would it be called a dishonorable ac- 
tion ? ” 

“ Most decidedly, daughter.” 

“And one who so dishonors himself 
should do what ? ” 

“Die: it is the only redemption. Some- 
times even death cannot redeem. Honor, 
pet, is the safeguard to virtue. It is a 
subtle sensibility that saves human nature 


BOSS, 


56 


from degradation. To destroy honor in a 
woman’s soul is like crushing the perfume 
from a flower. Be assured that half her 
virtue goes with it.” 

The Boss drew a long, full breath. 

“Ah I” 

She felt a horror of herself — a horror 
sudden and sharp. It was like a man 
walking on the brink of a precipice, con- 
scious of the frightful declivity, yet pow- 
erless to avert the catastrophe. She felt that 
danger was imminent. From her narrow 
point of view, her secret love for Lucius 
was a dishonor. She thought if she once 
gave way she would forever close behind 
her the gates of happiness ; for hers was a 
nature that, without perfect accord of con- 
science, life would be a series of torturous 
conflicts. 

Involuntarily the girl looked up at him. 
Since the first realization of her love for 
Lucius had forced itself upon her, she had 
felt a sense of isolation from her father. 
With keen, agonizing consciousness came 
the thought that she was no longer worthy 
of his respect. Though she had not sinned 
in deed, she had erred in thought. 

She locked her hands tightly behind 
her. There was an appealing look in her 


56 


BOSS. 


eyes — a silent, wistful plea for pardon, 
as she gazed up at her father, and ex- 
claimed : 

“ Darling Po-pa ! ” 

The Colonel’s abstracted face melted into 
a look of tenderness. 

“Daughter.” 

He bent down and kissed her on the 
lips. 

“ Come,” said the girl ; “ they are call- 
ing us to dinner.” 

They walked on hand in hand. There 
was an added tenderness in the man’s 
grasp ; a nervous, excited, shy fluttering 
of the girl’s heart. 

While they were discussing the merits 
of the flrst course, the dining-room door 
was flung open suddenly, and Meg rushed 
in with a quick, decided impetus, like the 
shot from a catapult. 

The dining-room was spacious, flanked 
on every side with wide windows that 
opened out from floor to ceiling, and were 
shaded by curtains of blue cretonne. A 
light yellow matting in new condition 
covered the floor. An old-fashioned sofa 
of tempting thickness, huge in width and 
breadth, dominated one corner of the 
apartment. And two enormous carved 


BOSS. 


57 


rockers, with leather seats, constituted the 
rest of the furniture. The table was ob- 
long, set with superb china of prehistoric 
date. The odor of crushed mint per- 
meated the air. 

“ Just imagine, I’ve lost my racket,” ex- 
claimed Meg, crossing the floor. She drew 
a chair near to the Colonel’s elbow, and 
nodded her head in general greeting. “ It 
was such a dear.” 

“Doggone it, that’s too bad,” said Bob, 
with his rare sympathetic smile. “ How 
did you manage it ? ” 

“Dunno. Thought I packed it up, but 
guess I was mistaken. You see,” she con- 
tinued, raising her voice and addressing 
the Boss at the other end of the table, I 
w^as awfully late ; I had to regularly hump 
myself to catch the train. Just did man- 
age it by the skin of my teeth. Here you, 
my pie-eating friend,” she cried, giving 
Bob a vigorous poke, “ I’d like an expres- 
sion of those pickles myself. Will you 
join me. Colonel ? ” 

“I reckon not,” the Colonel answered. 
“If you will excuse the bluntness of an 
old soldier, I would suggest that you con- 
flne yourself to a mere suspicion ; they are 
mighty unwholesome.” 


58 


BOSS. 


‘ ‘ Listen, ” said the Boss. ‘ ‘ What splen- 
did inconsistency I We parade them be- 
fore our guests, but label them ‘ Hands 
otf ! ’ ” 

“ They agree with me all right enough,” 
said Bob. “ I eat ’em for breakfast every 
morning, and never felt better in my 
life.” 

“It ain’t the pickles ‘hun’,” said Meg 
dryly. ‘ ‘ It’s because you’ve never thought 
half so little of yourself, and — her head 
swerved meaningly towards the head of 
the table — “ and half so much of other 
people. Self-annihilation is the best elixa- 
vitse in the world.” 

The Boss tried not to smile and asked : 

“ Would you like to ride or drive after 
dinner, Meg ? We can give you a first-rate 
mount.” 

“I’m afraid you will have to use the 
team,” said Lucius, meeting the Boss’ 
eyes, then glancing past her and regarding 
the wall with careful scrutiny. “The 
Brier is being shod.” 

The Boss laughed nervously. 

“ All right, we’ll drive to Scotsville with 
the team.” 

“ What’s the joke ? ” the Colonel asked, 
glancing up from his plate. 


BOSS. 


59 


The Boss’ color rose. 

Lucius shifted his steady, characteristic 
gaze to the Colonel, and said : 

“ Only Rufus shuffling in the yard. He 
is enough to make any one laugh.” 

“ So he is, durn his soul ; so he is,” an- 
swered the Colonel. 

“Lucius,” said Bob, “I tried that 
‘ green ’ youngster this morning, and had 
the devil of a time with him.” 

“ What did he do ? ” 

‘ ‘ Why, he’s a regular Colossus of Rhodes 
in horse-flesh. He balked so suddenly, 
in a half-mile dash I made, that I came 
very near getting a nasty cropper. I 
sickened him though, doggone it I I bet 
a dollar he won’t be so anxious to try it 
again.” 

“Why, how did you flx him ? ” 

“I dragged his nose close against my 
knee, and with my right spur drove him 
around like a peg-top, until the blood ran 
from my rowels. Then I gave him his 
head. It wasn’t much use to him for a 
while, you can just bet, for he came mighty 
near falling. I urged him forward, how- 
ever, to the top of his speed, and he’d have 
been going yet if I hadn’t wanted my 
dinner.” 


60 


BOSS. 


“ Of whom did you buy him ? ” asked 
the Boss. 

“ Cecil Beresford, the young Englishman 
who bought the Harrison farm.” 

“What did he ‘rush’ you for him?” 
asked Meg. 

“Two fifty.” 

“ Pounds ? ” 

“ No, Miss Simpleton, dollars.” 

“He’s so conservative, it’s a wonder he 
didn’t engage an agent to drive the bar- 
gain,” said the Boss. 

‘ ‘ La, ” laughed Meg. ‘ ‘ Never mind how 
intimately you know a Britisher, he always 
keeps the English channel between you 
and him.” 

‘ ‘ That’s so,” replied Bob smiling. ‘ ‘ The 
other day, at the Carters’ tea, I happened 
to be standing next to young Lowther, ar- 
rayed like the lilies of the field. He was 
smoking a fat regalia and looked like a 
great, green, conceited boy. In a moment 
of affability, though I had never been for- 
mally presented, I said : ‘ Beautiful day, 
isn’t it ? ’ He turned on me his long upper 
lip and short nose, and glared with a per- 
fect British stare ; then turned and fast- 
ened his eyes upon the door with idiotic 


BOSS. 61 

vacancy. ‘ I beg your pardon,’ he said 
in curt monosyllables. 

“ I said, ‘beautiful day,’ 

“ ‘ Aw ! It may be and it may not be ; 
but if it is, that is no reason for your 
addressing me with such familiarity.’ I 
doubled up my fist, and came mighty near 
teaching this impenetrable form of Bri- 
tish rudeness what one of ‘our fellows’ 
knew of manners. I thought better of it, 
however, and left him with a superior 
smile.” 

Lucius turned abruptly to Meg, and 
said : 

“You’ve been gone two years, Meg ; did 
you return heart-whole ? ” 

“Ah — ah !” she said in a breathless 
little way ; “I have learned a very sad 
lesson. I find that all the men I know are 
getting too old for me. My heart remains 
young, verdant, while theirs — ” 

Bob looked up and stared, and then 
burst out laughing. 

Meg drew her brows together in a de- 
cided frown, and stared back at him. 

“ What is it that convulses your risibili- 
ties, may I ask ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing,” he stopped with a broken 
laugh. 


G2 


BOSS. 


Meg curled her lips with a flash of dis- 
dain. 

“Why not try the susceptibilities of an 
old soldier ? ” asked the Colonel. 

“That is a fortress that would never 
surrender.” 

Meg tossed back the answer, with a 
droop of her long lashes, an abyss of co- 
quetry in her blue eyes. 

The Colonel smoothed his moustache 
from his flne old mouth, and took a cup of 
coffee from Eufus. 

“Will you order the horses ?” the Boss 
said, holding up her head with a funny 
little cough and a turn of her neck towards 
Bob. “ You might ride down and meet 
us, you know, on our way back.” She 
turned to go and then paused irresolutely. 
“ You too, Lucius,” she added. To the 
others it sounded like an after-thought. 

With a sharp movement Lucius pushed 
away his chair, and got up from the table. 
He went over to the corner of the mantel 
and reached for his gun ; then put out his 
hand for the cartridge-belt. With his 
hand half extended, he turned and fixed 
his eyes upon the Boss. She was looking 
in the opposite direction, but he regarded 
her intently. 


BOSS, 


63 


“ Thank you, I shall be busy this after- 
noon.” His fingers moved quickly along 
the edge of the cartridge-belt. “ Don’t 
pretend that you will miss me. That’s too 
absurd a defence.” 

He finished with a short laugh, wheeled 
away, and then closed the door behind 
him. 

“ La ! ” said Meg, holding up her head 
with a stare. 

The Boss crossed the room. 

“ It’s ever so much nicer out of doors. 
Let’s get ready now.” She had turned 
away her face as if to look at the sky. 

The Colonel glanced up as they were leav- 
ing the room. “’Pears tome, ‘Huckle,’ 
you are looking poorly.” 

The Boss seemed confused. She was 
taken by surprise. Bob nodded. He was 
standing against the low dining-table, his 
feet crossed, smoking a cigarette. 

“ You do look perky, sho’ enough.” 

“ Nonsense, I only want exercise.” 

“Is that it?” said the Colonel with a 
sigh of relief. “Be careful, the winds 
carry a storm. I’m thinking.” 

She made a sweet gesture and closed the 
door. 

The Colonel relapsed into his stuffed 


64 


BOSS. 


chair, and turned his gaze upon the eastern 
half of the view seen from the window. 

>|t H£ He * * 

When they had climbed the tall hill 
behind the post-office, the Boss gave the 
horses their heads. 

It was a long stretch of level ground, 
with great hills rolling off from each side. 

“Boss,” said Meg suddenly, “I’ve got 
something to tell you.” 

The Boss flashed a little laugh. 

“ I know. It’s about your coming back 
so suddenly.” 

Meg nodded her head and stared. She 
had blanched to a dead white. 

“ Oh, I see. Boss, you are clever.” 

“ It was this way,” she began, a visible 
trembling in the saucy voice. “ What I 
told you yesterday, about my being a fail- 
ure, was a lie. I wasn’t. I made a hit. 
As the books say, I woke up one morn- 
ing and found myself famous. I exagger- 
ate my importance a little, you think. 
Anyhow, I was spoken of as a very prom- 
ising young comedienne. ” She paused and 
laughed tremulously. “ O Boss ! I was so 
contented and happy. Don’t you recollect 
how I was always dying to play at theatri- 


BOSS, 65 

cals in the old days ? Well, this life suited 
me down to the ground.” 

She stopped abruptly, and then began 
again, her eyes fixed on the clear green 
of the young corn. 

“ There is always an Adam for every 
Eve. This time Adam and the serpent 
were all one and the same person. Boss,” 
she continued more quickly, “ I fell in 
love, — it was my first, and it was a ter- 
rible attack.” 

She shut her eyes and twisted her glove 
tightly between her strained finger-tips. 

‘ ‘ I guess I am a little disconnected in 
my discourse. I’ll get it straight in a 
minute.” 

The Boss turned her head around as 
though she meant to interrupt her, but 
changed her mind and returned to the 
scrutiny of the horse’s ears. Meg con- 
tinued : 

“ He was a grand-looking fellow, with 
black eyes and that earnest, sympathetic 
way about him which is so seductive. 
Everybody was crazy over him. He was 
our leading man.” 

The Boss raised her eyebrows inquisi- 
tively. 

“ Leading man,” explained Meg, “ is the 
5 


66 


BOSS. 


one who plays the best male parts. He’s 
the high cockelorum in the company.” 

“ Oh yes,” said the Boss, nodding her 
head in assent. “ I know.” 

“Why, matinee-days, the people almost 
fought for seats, he w'as so popular. The 
papers raved. The women acted like mad. 
From the first he seemed to take to me.” 
The piquant little face had grown white and 
drawn around the lips. “And I — I — O 
Boss ! I just worshipped him. He was so 
different from any one I had ever seen be- 
fore. It was like a gift straight from God ; 
I was bewildered by my good fortune. 
One night he stopped me in the wings ; the 
play was ‘ The Silver King,’ and he told 
me he loved me.” 

She tossed back her head and laughed 
sharply. 

‘ ‘ I believed him, poor little simpleton. 
I was such a fool ; if he had told me to, 
I should have crawled on my hands and 
knees. One day I asked permission to 
write and tell mamma of our engagement. 
He patted me on the cheek, and said : 
‘Wait until we play in Eichmond ; I will 
tell her myself.’ ” Then the girl gave a 
sharp cry of pain. ‘ ‘ I believed him, I did. 
The next Monday we were to open at Al- 


BOSS. 


67 


baugh’s, in W ashington. W e left after the 
performance on Saturday night, and my 
berth happened to be next to his. I was 
lying there thinking of my great happiness, 
when suddenly I heard voices. One was 
his. He was talking to the comedian, 
Mr. Oh, but never mind his name.” 

She stopped for a minute, and then 
pressed her hands over her heart. 

“ This is what they said. Boss : ‘ What 
do you think of my newest ? ’ 

“ ‘She’s a rum little customer,’ an- 
swered the comedian. “ ‘ But doesn’t she 
claw ? ’ 

“‘Rather,’ said my lover, ‘she’ll do 
when we strike the road. One-night 
stands are devilish lonesome, you know. 
By the way, my wife joins me in ’Frisco, 
I—’ 

“I didn’t wait to hear the end. I put 
my head out between the curtains, and 
looked him straight in the eyes. 

“ I didn’t know before that God let such 
low cowards as you live. Down in Vir- 
ginia, where I come from, we shoot curs.’ ” 

“He turned livid with rage, and so I 
jumped back and buttoned the curtains 
tight, and then covered up my head. I 
didn’t sleep much, but lay there and 


68 


BOSS. 


thought and thought until daylight. That’s 
all,” she finished in a whisper. “ I left the 
next week, and shall never play again. 
The love for it has left me. It would 
never be the same. Can you understand 
that ? ” 

“Perfectly,” said the Boss, a tone of 
awful indignation in her voice. ‘ ‘ That was 
a crime. For a man of the world to deliber- 
ately destroy a girl’s first love is a crime. 
There can be no greater.” 

“ That’s it. Boss,” said Meg slowly with 
her eyes half shut, and her pale lips pressed 
together. “That’s it. I believed so in 
everything before, it will never, never be 
the same again. Life is an effort to me 
now.” She put her hands up and covered 
her face, and when she lowered them her 
cheeks were wet. 

‘ ‘ Dear little Meg ! ” 

“Don’t, Boss, don’t! I hate pity. I 
only wanted you to know. I will never 
mention it again.” 

‘ ‘ I honor your confidence, dear. Thank 
you for telling me.” 

After they had driven a hundred yards 
in silence, the slanting rays of the sun 
seemed to increase in intensity and fill the 
■world with glare. 


BOSS. 69 

The Boss pointed to the southeast with 
her whip. 

“lam afraid we are going to have a 
storm. How quiet everything is ! ” 

“ I reckon we are,” answered Meg. “ It 
looks mighty like it.” 

The country had now grown oppressively 
still. There was not a sign of life any- 
where, and the two or three dogs they had 
met slunk away, and barked only after 
they had passed. 

“ Let’s turn around,” suggested the Boss. 

A half-mile back they met a cart drawn 
by oxen. Two long planks rested across 
the wheels, and a man’s figure was stretch- 
ed lazily out upon his back. It was a 
negro eating ail ear of corn. His shirt, 
open at the neck, showed his muscular 
chest half bare. Swarms of flies and gnats 
covered his face and hands. He saluted 
them respectfully as they drove by. 

The sultriness grew insupportable. 
Everything on the earth became motion- 
less. The tall hickory trees reared their 
proud heads defiantly ; but even they 
looked parched and dry. 

“ Lordy,” whispered Meg. 

“It will be on us in a minute, and I 
daren’t touch the team with my whip,” 


70 


BOSS. 


said the Boss. ‘ ‘ Get up, Ananias ! Hurry, 
my beauties.” 

Suddenly the lightning shot from the 
sky. The horses, whose ears were acutely 
pitched to catch any sound, plunged for- 
ward, almost upsetting the buggy into a 
ditch that had eaten its way deep into the 
soil. Behind them lay the woods, rising 
like black broken masses, over which 
swept the purple clouds, now like moving 
banks of fire. Burst upon burst of thunder 
roared over their heads, returning in one 
uninterrupted echo from the mountains. 
The storm swept upon them with demonia- 
cal fury. 

‘ ‘ Don’t get frightened, Meg. ” The Boss’ 
words were measured and quite low, her 
heart was beating tempestuously. 

“What are you doing?” she asked 
presently. 

“ Praying,” said Meg half crying. “I 
am saying the ‘ Our Father.’ ” 

The horses became frightened, and al- 
most tore the reins from the Boss’ hands. 
The rain beat down in drops as big as a 
quarter. The earth fiew up and formed 
a coating of red mud on their faces. 

“ Boss,” said Meg, giggling hysterically, 
“you look like a Comanche Indian.” 


BOSS. 


71 


“ Never mind me,” answered the Boss, 
her white teeth clinched hard, her arms 
aching fearfully from the strain. “ Hold 
on to the sides. The horses are becoming 
unmanageable ; if they should bolt, God 
help us I ” 

In a moment there was a crash, like the 
upheaving of a planet. A short distance 
away, a great pepper-tree was shivered 
into fragments. The rain was coming 
slantwise now. It blinded them with its 
terrific force. 

Blacker and blacker grew the day. On 
bounded the foaming horses, their ears 
nearly touching. On — on — it seemed like 
an eternity as they listened to the galloping 
hoofs. Suddenly, they heard the beat of 
other hoofs. 

“Lookout! We will run into some- 
body,” gasped Meg. 

Before the Boss could reply, a figure 
seemed to rise from the ground and sprang 
at the horses’ heads, with a wild cry : 

“ Thank God ! ” 

“ Lucius 1” 

In one tremendous wave, the blood flew 
through the Boss’ body to hands that were 
cold and trembling only a second before. 

Meg leaned against the seat, white and 


72 


BOSS. 


clammy. The shock was terrific. The 
horses, with great gasping breaths and 
furious plunges, were reined back upon 
their haunches, tugging to relieve them- 
selves from the immense force that held 
them. 

“ Is it really you ? ” whispered the Boss. 
Only Meg heard her. She threw off the 
final stage of unrealism. “Of course it is I 
What other man could hold those beasts 
like that ? ” 

“ Lucius — you — got — here — just — in — 
time ! ” she cried at the top of her voice. 
The high winds carried the words past his 
ear. 

“What — did — you — say? Wait — until 
— I — get — in ; I — can’t — hear — you ! ” he 
thundered back. 

With a familiar hand he quieted down 
the trembling horses ; then came to the 
side of the wagon, and without a word 
climbed over the muddy wheels and sat 
down between them. The Boss moved 
aside to give him room. 

“ Am I crowding you ?” he whispered 
anxiously. “You are not hurt ? ” 

He put his hand over and felt her dress. 

“Sopping wet,” he muttered. “ Get up.” 

“ You have forgotten Lucille,” said Meg. 


BOSS. 


73 


“ No, I let her go back. Couldn’t hold 
her, for you looked like a moving ava- 
lanche coming through the blackness.” 
He laughed, but his lips trembled. 

“ We felt like it,” answered Meg, still 
in the emotional stage. “ Didn’t we. 
Boss ? ” 

“ Yes.” The word fell soft, as the Boss 
leaned limp and helpless against the side 
of the buggy. 

‘ ‘ Lucius, you will kill those beasts ! ” 
They were flying at terrific speed.” 

“I want to get you home. Boss is drip- 
ping wet.” 

“ So am I,” demurely remarked Meg. 

‘ ‘ Of course you both are. You are more 
than likely to get a chill from this ex- 
posure.” 

The Boss touched Lucius’ sleeve with 
pathetic hands. 

“How did you manage to be in the 
road ? ” 

“I guessed which way you had gone. 
And — well — here I am.” 

“ Bare-back ? ” 

“Of course. You see, the storm came 
on so suddenly, I had to catch Lucille in 
the field, and it would have taken too long 
to go back to the stable.” 


74 


BOSS. 


“ Oh,” said the Boss, in a voice rich and 
deep. A smile curved her beautiful mouth, 
but the tears still flashed in her eyes. 
Meg cuddled lovingly against Lucius’ wet 
sleeve, stilled into quietness by the knowl- 
edge of safety. None of the trio spoke 
again until they reached the house. 


BOSS. 


75 


CHAPTER VI. 

One week later the weather had grown 
hotter. The nights cooled slightly the 
parched earth, hut the intense heat of the 
sun soon dried up the moisture. At noon 
none but the negroes could stand the fierce 
rays. Every morning, after breakfast, 
the Colonel dragged his big peat-bottom 
chair to the far end of the piazza, and 
watched the hands through his field-glass. 
They were chopping out the weeds be- 
tween thecorn, and grubbing out the blue- 
thistle in the low ground next to the 
river. 

To-day, over by his cabin, under the 
shade of a locust - bush, lay Uncle Rufus 
at full length on the grass. He was gaz- 
ing into space, but at regular intervals 
would try to see how far he could spout 
the tobacco- juice from his mouth. 

Mammy sat in the doorway, cutting out 
a blue patch for the seat of his pants. 
She was dividing her conversation between 


76 


BOSS. 


the occupants of the cabin and the negro 
at her feet, but now and then crooked her 
head around and peered into the darkened 
room, her full-orbed eyes squinting from 
the late contact with the rays of the 
sun. 

“ TVards night, honey, yo’ haid will 
ease up. Miss Boss gwine to sing an’ play 
de banjo,” and she commenced to cut 
vigorously. 

“ Ez she. Mammy ? I ez glad.” 

The black woman dropped the scissors 
in her lap, and snapped her fingers. 

“ Yo’ yappy-haided nigger ! yo’ better 
hump yo’se’f and git some sassafas fur 
tea. Lord ! you ez de laziest buzzard I 
uver see. I wish I’d busted fo’ I got yoked 
to yo’ ole’ carcass.” 

Rufus rolled the quid gently about in 
his mouth, and regarded his wife with a 
mellow smile. 

“ Mum — m, whar’uver yo’ see carrion, 
yo’ boun’ to see de buzzard,” he remarked 
sententiously. 

‘ ‘ He ! he ! he ! ” came faintly from the 
darkened cabin. 

“ Hush, yo’ disrespectable jaw I Look 
heah ! De Bishop am gwine to preach in 
Buck’n’ham in de mawnin, an’ Miss Boss 


BOSS. 


77 


say you hitch up de red jumper fur all o’ 
wees. An’ I don’ want dat lantern-jawed 
haws nuver — you heah ? ” 

“Yes, I heah, Cindy. Fo’ Gord, I 
b’live you talk jist to agervate me ! Cer- 
ity,” he called, “ I ez gwine to catch a 
bullfrog for you.” 

“ I ain’ hongry, pappy.” 

The negro sat up, took the quid of to- 
bacco from his mouth and shook his head 
mournfully. 

“ Kyant you eat de legs, if I git ’em ? ” 

“ I ez feared I kyan’t, pappy.” 

“Good Gord A’mighty ! ” And the 
rugged voice deepened into tenderness as 
he arose heavily from the ground. 

“ Nor fish, Cerity ? ” 

“ No, pappy.” He swerved nearer the 
door. 

“ Nor sassafas ? ” 

“ No, pappy.” 

‘ ‘ Whar you gwine ? ” asked the old 
woman hurriedly, as she shuffled the sew- 
ing aside and rose to her feet. “ Whar 
you gwine ? ” 

“ I ez gwine fur de doctor,” the man 
answered simply. 

“ Tiddy,” said his wife solemnly, “ ’tain’t 
no use, Tiddy boy.” And then she went 


78 


BOSS. 


over and laid her hand on his shoulder. 
“ ’Tain’t no use.” 

“ Why, ’tain’t no use ? ” inquired the old 
man snappishly. 

“ Cuz Cerity boun’ to die, honey.” 

A spasm crossed his face. 

“ Cindy, ole woman, I ez tuckered. I’m 
gwine in de cabin. You stay out dyah ; ” 
said he suddenly : “I ” — tears rolled 
down his black cheeks and dropped in big 
splashes on his ragged shirt-front — “ I ez 
clean tuckered.” 

The woman resumed her seat and com- 
menced her sewing. 

“ Poor critter ! White folks say we’s 
got no feelin’s, but our hearts ez bustin’ 
wide open. We ain’t got nuttin’ but Cer- 
ity, an’ de Lord A’mighty gwine to tek 
her. Hi, who’s dat ? ” 

“ Only I, Cindy. Is Uncle Pufus in 
there ? ” 

“ Heah ez me, Massa Bob,” called out 
Rufus in a suspiciously low voice. 

“ I want you to saddle Sweetbrier, Lu- 
cille, and Tom,” Bob said from the door- 
way. “ How’s Cerity, mammy ? ” 

“ Pretty po’ly, pretty po’ly, Massa Bob, 
tank you,” answered the woman. Then 
with sudden anguish, “It ez de dry heat.” 


BOSS. 79 

“ Miss Boss is coming down to-night. 
She told me to tell Cerity so.” 

The woman nodded her head. 

“ I don’ tole her, seh.” 

“ Hurry up, Rufus. The Boss is waiting 
on the porch.” 

“ Yas, seh. I’z gwine torectly.” 

It was five o’clock when they left the 
yard behind, and entered the avenue of 
pepper- trees. Around them was the mag- 
nificent beauty of a perfect summer-day. 
The Boss was in the centre. Bob and Lu- 
cius, scrupulously groomed, rode on each 
side, their horses’ coats shining like satin. 
The Boss, graceful and stately, sat her 
horse like one whose nerves and muscles 
were made of steel, and whose heart 
was as happy as her health was per- 
fect. The white-duck riding-habit was 
buttoned close to her perfectly modeled 
chin ; while her thick wavy hair, sur- 
mounted by a white derby, was coiled 
tightly behind her small, flat ears. She 
made a singularly striking picture. Her 
white teeth gleamed in the sunlight as she 
watched the lot of trembling little pigs 
scattering, falling over each other, uncer- 
tain of their steps, anxious only to escape 
the prancing hoofs. 


80 


BOSS. 


Bob regarded her for a moment, and 
then exclaimed — 

“ Boss, you look full of delicious oppo- 
sites this afternoon. You seem to be 
made up of all sorts of harmonizing colors. 
Your eyes, hair, and complexion, none 
of them match, and yet the ensemble is 
perfect.” 

The Boss blushed, half embarrassed. 

‘ ‘ I wish you wouldn’t. I hate personali- 
ties, Bob.” 

Before they reached the gate that shut 
off the Cameron lands from the road, they 
met a negro, whose sharp black face 
shone beneath his battered straw hat. 
An old linen duster flopped against his 
heels, and occasionally scraped the dust 
off some dirt-pile higher than the rest. 
The man bowed effusively in front of 
them. 

“Hullo, Major ; doggone you, didn’t I 
tell you to come yesterday ? What do you 
mean, sir, by keeping me waiting a whole 
day ? ” cried Bob. 

The negro looked distressed, as he shifted 
from one foot to the other, and fumbled 
uneasily with his hat-brim. 

“ Too bad ! I’ll have to go back,” said 
Bob disconsolately. “You all go on ; I 


BOSS. 81 

reckon I can catch up before you pass the 
post-office.” 

“ Hadn’t we better turn back too ? I — ” 
the Boss’ face was full of trouble ; “I’d 
just as soon.” 

‘ ‘ Nonsense — go right ahead ! I’ll not be 
long ; besides, Lucius will take care of you. 
Won’t you, old chap ? ” 

Lucius laughed abruptly , and said : “I’ll 
do my best.” 

The Boss still looked miserably per- 
plexed. 

“ Are you sure ? ” 

“ Go on, dear. Wait for me. Major ; we 
can talk as we go along. So long.” He 
wheeled his horse about, and waved his 
cap in the air. 

“ Be as quick as you can,” said the Boss 
over her shoulder. 

Then those two rode slowly away, their 
horses casting one long shadow ahead of 
them. 

An hour later they neared the church. 
It was choir-practising afternoon, and the 
notes of the organ floated through the 
gathering dusk. The lamps popping up in 
different houses gave an animation to the 
scene, intensely still before. 

“Listen I They are singing ‘Peace 
6 


82 


BOSS. 


on earth, good-will towards men.” The 
voices rang out high and low, loud and 
so£t.“ What a simple melody, and yet 
how very sweet,” said the Boss. 

The twilight flitted through the branches 
of the trees, casting a shadow of the man’s 
flgure on the ground. 

The Boss drew a deep breath, flxing, in 
reverence, her beautiful eyes upon the 
scene before her : the shabby, oblong lit- 
tle old church, with the flickering lights 
in the windows, the purple shades, the 
fading voices. 

“I like this,” she said, drawing her 
horse nearer to the other. “ Don’t you ? 
Shake hands ! ” she cried, in her emo- 
tional, magnetic way ; “I want to feel the 
touch of warm flesh.” 

Lucius caught her hand and crushed it 
passionately against his mouth. 

The heavy - lidded gray eyes drooped 
toward the ground, and her head, with its 
tightly-pinned braids, fell low for a mo- 
ment. The man went white to the lips. 

“I didn’t mean you to do that,” said 
the Boss, with a forlorn smile. ‘ ‘ I meant 
you to do just what I said, no more.” 

“Forgive me, dear,” Lucius answered 
tenderly ; “ the longing lay so near my 


BOSS. 83 

lips, it would out. I scarcely knew what 
I was doing. I am a stupid fool.” 

Not finding anything else to say, the 
Boss asked : 

“ Has John Rusk got back ? ” 

Lucius shook his head. “He is still 
at the Convention, poor old boy ; but it 
wouldn’t take him many hours to return, 
if he only knew who was waiting for him. 
He is one of the noblest men I know,” 
said he, looking around at the Boss in- 
terrogatively, “but also the most misera- 
ble.” 

The Boss gazed at a point ahead of her 
in the road, and then gave a quick sigh. 

“You see, he’s loved her all her life,” 
continued Lucius very slowly. “ He has 
told me the whole story, how he used to 
beg the nurse to let him carry her ; and 
one time, when he was in the middle of his 
sermon, he cut it short and pronounced the 
benediction, because he heard she was ill, 
and they had sent to the church for the 
doctor. I never saw such — I mean I never 
saw any greater devotion. Do you remem- 
ber the day he planted the hyacinth up- 
side down, because Meg happened to be 
within eye-range, and how sheepish he 
looked when he was discovered.” 


84 


BOSS, 


“Yes,” said the Boss, looking up and 
smiling retrospectively ; “ but it grew just 
the same, upside down though it was.” 

Lucius raised his eyebrows and laughed. 
“ When Dick Brunswick heard of it, he 
said : ‘ John, I admire your pluck, but 
damn your judgment.’ Strange,” he con- 
tinued more seriously, “that, with his 
sensitive, timid nature, he should possess 
such magnetism. I think it must be his 
utter forgetfulness of self, his exquisite 
kindness to each and every of God’s crea- 
tures, and his great loyalty to his friends. 
It’s his intense earnestness that gives 
weight to his simplest word, I think. That 
about describes him,” Lucius finished 
abruptly, with an air of thoughtful judg- 
ment. 

As he concluded, the Boss drew her 
horse nearer to him, and shivered a little, 
as if from cold. 

“ It’s all very hard — very, very hard ! ” 
exclaimed the girl. 

“ What do you mean, dear ? ” 

“All of our lives — his, yours, and mine. 
I have spoiled yours, and — well — I reckon 
we are quits, mine — ” She stopped trem- 
ulously, for a tragic tone had deepened 
the lines in her face. 


BOSS. 


85 


“ Finish, finish ! ” cried Lucius hoarsely, 
riding close beside her, and stretching out 
his hand as he shook her by the arm. 
“ You mean — Boss, my Boss — say it, for 
Christ’s sake, say it — just once ! Oh, my 
girl ! I am in a frenzy. Don’t torture me 
any more. Look ! See how my hand is 
shaking ! I have strangled it down my 
throat so often. This time, honey, it has 
broken its bonds. Tell me, have you no 
pity ? Only once, honey, just once ! ” 

The Boss was a true, loyal girl. She 
meant, she intended, to do right ; but the 
situation was too tragic, the suffering too 
intensely realistic on the white face of the 
man beside her. 

Suddenly she forgot everything— forgot 
she was an affianced wife, forgot her 
pledged word, her noble old father. She 
was completely swamped in the whirlpool 
of his words. 

“ I love you, Lucius ; I never meant to 
tell it — never, never ! But I couldn’t keep 
it back. I do love you— oh, so—” 

Lucius breathed a deep, prolonged 
“ Ah — h I and I have loved you so. Boss — 
Boss, my honey ! ” 

The girl gave a piteous, appealing look 
at him. 


86 


BOSS. 


“ How poor and weak I am — poor and 
weak ! ” she moaned, dropping her head 
upon her breast. 

“ What a hideous shame it is that your 
father should make you act this cursed 
lie ! Your father’s a fanatic on the sub- 
ject of honor. Why, girl, it is ten thou- 
sand times more dishonorable to marry a 
man you don’t love — accept his caresses, 
eat his bread, bear his children — than to 
nobly acknowledge your fault. For God’s 
sake, are our lives to be ruined by thenar- 
row prejudices of a biased mind ? ” 

The Boss did not respond. She sat in 
the saddle, her head still lowered — that 
proud head, wearing the yoke of its own 
wrong-doing, as her breast heaved heavily. 

Lucius watched her, his dark eyes 
brilliant with excitement. 

“ Boss, I scarcely dare to think.” 

The girl raised her hand, as if to implore 
silence. 

Lucius stretched out his hand, and 
somehow the ten fingers interwove and 
clung tightly together. 

The sun had disappeared behind the hills, 
which were grand and deep azure, with 
jagged outlines. They rose close to the 
crimson west. The dogwood grew thicker, 


BOSS. 87 

and the perfume of honeysuckle was over- 
powering. 

Just before they forded the creek at the 
foot of the hill and reined up to water 
their horses, the girl turned to the man. 

“ I feel as Eve must have felt when they 
turned her out of Paradise, and she stood 
facing the unknown.” 

“ You forget,” answered Lucius quickly, 
“ Adam went with her.” 

“ That’s it — don’t you see ? ” exclaimed 
the Boss, her eyes filling. “ It is just that 
which makes the difference. I go alone. 
I take with me only the knowledge that 
I have been wrong and am miserable. I 
have been false to Bob, and he’s an angel. 
Oh ! Lucius, I feel so different, I dread 
everything to come. All seems changed ; 
even the sky doesn’t seem the same since 
this happened between you and me.” 

Poor Boss, she felt engulfed in a mire 
of self-degradation. What would have 
only been the ordinary pastime of the 
conventional girl of society, to this whole- 
some country -bred Virginian seemed a 
crime. Certain words of her father’s were 
gnawing within her : they stabbed her 
with their truth. 

“You act within, my child — I’ll act 


88 


BOSS. 


without ; and, by the grace of God, we 
will make you a perfect statue of a per- 
fect woman.” 

“ I am that, indeed,” she thought, with 
bitter sarcasm. 

She turned her sad eyes toward Lucius, 
who caught and clasped her hand and tried 
to kiss it ; but she tore it from him with 
a gesture superb yet pathetic. 

“ Don’t.” 

Lucius, in his quick, impulsive way, 
grabbed the bridle of her horse and pulled 
the animal to a stop. 

“ You must not look at me like that. 
Boss, my girl, listen ; ” and his voice 
rang out, magnificent and commanding. 
“ Listen : I am not going to controvert 
your feelings, though I may condemn your 
ideas ; nor to infiuence your mind against 
your youthful teachings. You are only 
the mirror that bears the impression your 
father pictured there in your youth. I 
shall endeavor to work upon him, to show 
him the fearful consequences of a marriage 
without love. It means eternal regret for 
both of you. I want you to look at me. 
Look at me ! ” he demanded imperiously. 

The exquisite face raised itself slowly, 
the lips white and trembling, the eyes 


BOSS. 89 

open wide with a strange, pathetic pleading 
in their gray depths. 

“ Kiss me ! ” 

The beautiful face of the girl grew ashen. 
She seemed bereft of motion ; the reins 
fell from the quivering fingers, and rested 
loosely upon the horse’s neck. 

“ Kiss me ! ” 

The compelling power of the man flashed 
from beneath his brows. She turned her 
head, and held her mouth towards him 
with the lips parted. 

Lucius gazed at her, his eyes dilated. 
Suddenly he jerked his head back. ‘ ‘ Take 
up your reins ! ” he cried hoarsely. “ Ride 
ahead ; the strain is killing me.” 

Then he whispered to himself : “Oh, 
Bob ! Bob ! Bob ! ” 

Ten minutes later they had passed a 
teamster with a colt trotting beside him. 
He gave a lazy salute, then cracked his 
whip, and passed on his slow journey. 

“ Race ! ” cried Lucius, giving his animal 
a sharp cut across its flank. It plunged 
forward, and the suddenness of the move- 
ment startled Sweetbrier, who was off like 
a shot. One minute more, and they were 
fairly in their stride. 


90 


BOSS. 


“ Come on I ” shouted the Boss, her 
voice clear and ringing. Up hill — down 
hill — on one side a wheat field waving 
with spectre - like grain, on the other the 
sombre foliage of the woods ; above, the 
purple sky fast fading into night. 

Sweetbrier pressed on with extraordi- 
nary fury, the bay mare keeping close to 
her. 

The girl’s appearance was superb. Her 
eyes literally blazed with unconquerable 
spirit. The silk coat of the sorrel streamed 
with sweat. On — on ! Up the long 
avenue — past the stables, neck and neck. 
At the gate, the bay mare swerved to the 
right ; Sweetbrier saw the advantage and 
dashed in. 

At the barn, over by the right, the 
silhouette of another rider appeared. It 
was Bob. 

“ Bully for you 1 ” he cried, throwing his 
hat in the air enthusiastically. “That 
was a dandy run. Come in and get a 
snack ; you look tuckered out. Come, 

‘ Presch,’ I’ll make you a champagne cock- 
tail.” 

“I am tired,” she said. Her lips 
trembled, and her eyes were languid with 


BOSS. 


91 


the light of one suffering from a deadly 
disease. ‘ ‘ But it was glorious, ” she added. 

Bob sent for ice, and drew the Boss 
towards the house. 

“Rub the horses down well,” said 
Lucius savagely, watching the retreating 
figures with gloomy, passionate eyes. 

At the porch Bob looked back. They 
were standing in a solitary corner in the 
lamplight. 

“I’ll have one ready for you too, old 
chap. Hurry up ! ” 

“I’ve got to change,” replied Lucius, 
swinging towards his house, with long 
swift steps, as if to keep from saying 
something else. 


92 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

It was after supper, and the Boss had 
not yet changed her riding-habit. She 
was standing in the doorway to enjoy the 
cool breeze, when she saw slouching to- 
wards her a queer-looking figure. It was 
Uncle Rufus. She watched him wonder- 
ingly. His head rested upon his breast, 
and his arms hung lifeless from his 
shoulders. An air of perfect dejection 
encompassed his whole being. 

“ What is it ? ” The Boss asked, as the 
man slackened his pace. 

‘ ‘ Cerity , Missy. ” The bent form straight- 
ened for a moment, and the tired, black 
face showed a look of utter anguish. He 
twisted his poor black hands in despair, 
and whispered, “ She ez dyin’! ” 

“ No — no ! ” said the Boss hopelessly. 

The old man shook his head feebly. All 
remaining life and energy seemed to have 
passed away. 

“ Dey want you over dyah, quick I ” 


BOSS. 


93 


“And the doctor?” asked the Boss 
rapidly, as she hurried along, her heart 
beating wildly. 

“Marse Lucius done gone. He’ll be 
back heah d’rectly.” 

“ Always the first,” she thought ex- 
ultingly — “ always.” 

Neither of them spoke again until they 
reached the cabin. 

“ She ez sort o’ still, Tiddy,” said his wife 
softly. “ Honey,” she cried as she caught 
sight of the Boss, “ she’s bin axin’ fur 
you.” 

The Boss went over and sank down be- 
side the low iron bed. She took the black 
hands in her own, — hands that looked like 
bone twisted with cord and covered with 
black parchment, — and laid her cheek 
against them. 

Over in the corner stood a table upon 
which a lamp was burning faintly. Over 
the bed was a quilt of patch- work calico. 
Near the middle a dent showed the out- 
lines of a frail figure, ending in a ridicu- 
lously small head covered with a white 
cloth. The face was cadaverous, for the 
dry, black skin exposed the smallest prom- 
inence of bone. 

“ Missy Boss, pappy git her,” whispered 


94 


BOSS. 


Cerity, her breath ending in a faint 
groan. 

“ Here I am, Cerity dear,” said the Boss, 
as tears rained down her cheeks. 

It was her first sight of death. She 
was overpowered. 

“Miss Boss, I ez gittin’ mighty cole.-r 
Pappy ! ” 

“ Heah me, honey, kyarnt yo’ see all 
we ? ” he asked fearfully. “ Mammy, turn 
de lamp up. Hit’s so low Cerity kyarnt 
see we’s.” 

“ Where’s Mammy ? ” The hollow eyes 
opened wide. They held that strange, 
inquisitive look of the dying. “Meh old 
mammy, git Miss Boss to sing ‘ I want 
to be a’ — ” The girl stopped ; she was 
bleeding internally, and her lungs were 
almost stopped up. 

“ I know, I understand,” whispered the 
Boss brokenly. She reached out towards 
the withered hand of the old man, and 
interwove his fingers in Cerity’s. “She 
wants you to hold it.” Rufus bent his 
quivering lips and kissed the passive 
arm. 

Mammy wiped the cold forehead, damp 
with the sweat of death. The Boss with 
bent head began to sing, the signs of deep 


BOSS. 


95 


grief in her beautiful eyes. Gradually, the 
look of pain gave place to one of dreamy 
quietude. The claw -like hands moved, 
and clung firmer to those of the old man. 
The eyes for a moment dispelled the 
film that seemed to be shutting out the 
sights of earth. The little black face grew 
soft. 

“Miss Boss, yo’ ez bu’ful. Will de 
angels all look like yo’ ? De ones sot down 
in de book do. Mammy, don’ you fuss 
wid pappy no mo’ ; will you promise ? ” 

“ Gord A’mighty, I never meant nut- 
tin’,” muttered the old woman humbly. 

Uncle Rufus bent over and lifted the 
misshapen little body in his arms, as her 
head rested weakly against his neck. 

“He tinks I ez spun-glass,” she said, 
feebly smiling, and stretching out her 
hand towards the Boss. 

“ Whar’ ez Marse Lucius ? Oh, whar’ 
ez Marse Lucius ? ” 

“ Here I am, Cerity. The doctor’s gone 
to Scotsville,” Lucius explained in a whis- 
per to the Boss, as he crossed over to the 
other side of the bed and dropped his hat 
on the floor. 

“Marse Lucius, yo’ an’ Miss Boss, yo’ 
mus’ tek’ care of her. Yo’ heah, sir ? ” 


96 


BOSS. 


“Trust me, Cerity,” bending his mouth 
close to the black face. “ I love her.” 

“ I knowed it ! I knowed it ! ” she cried 
out joyously, her sudden animation con- 
trasting strangely with her past weakness. 

“Pray, pappy, I ez gwine to glory, 
quick.” 

The Boss crept away and knelt in the 
doorway. 

Lucius bent over and put a tiny bit of 
ice between the cracked and bleeding lips, 
and then motioned to the old man to com- 
mence the prayer. 

Mammy crouched on the floor, her head 
curled up in the quilt. Dry sobs shook 
her immense shoulders. 

Rufus began in trembling tones : ‘ ‘ Gord 
A’mighty, heah dis po’ critter prayin’ fur 
his lamb, his lamb — ” He stopped short. 
“Massa Lucius, I kyarnt do it nohow,” he 
sobbed. 

Lucius glanced up. The Boss’ eyes 
turned to the bed, her face growing as 
white as a calla-lily. Then folding her two 
hands mechanically, she began: “Our 
Father,” she whispered, in a low, unsteady 
voice. Lucius’ eyes followed her lips 
intently. Presently his too began to move, 
“ Thy will be done — ” 


BOSS. 


97 


Slowly the feeble voice of the old man 
joined in : “Lead us not into temptation. 
Amen.” 

“ Now I lay me — ” whispered the dying 
girl ; then her eyes closed as the childish 
prayer crept over the lips of the grown 
folks. 

“Mammy, Pappy, Miss Boss, Massa 
Lucius, I ez waitin’ in glory ; come in de 
mawnin’, sho’.” 

The Boss moved close to the bedside. 

“ Is this death ? ” she shuddered. 

The man reached out and clasped her 
hand in his living, warm grasp. 

“Yes.” 

With the other hand the Boss stooped 
over and stroked the stiffening fingers. 
The white face looked down into the black 
one. The grand eyes of the living gazed 
deep into those of the dying. The Boss 
tried to speak — to say good-bye ; but it 
was impossible. Her tongue was swollen 
and parched. 

Suddenly the breathing ceased ; then the 
black eyes stared straight ahead of them, 
sightless. The body was dead. 

Lucius reached out and shut tight the 
lids, tenderly lifting the dead girl from the 
old man’s arms and placing it back among 
7 


98 


BOSS. 


the pillows. Such a puny little creature, 
like a feather-weight I Over in the dark 
corner Cindy and Eufus sat with their 
arms twined about each other, the 
shrunken figure of the old man lost in the 
ponderous embrace of the woman. 

“ O God ! God ! ” said the Boss, in a 
deep thrilling voice, “this is terrible.” 
She took her cambric handkerchief out 
of her pocket and covered the still face ; 
then she crept away to the doorway and 
looked at the moon. 

“ I will ride down to Warren and tele- 
graph for an undertaker,” said Lucius, 
close to her shoulder. “ Who will do the 
rest ? ” 

Quickly the beautiful, sad eyes opened 
wide. 

“I shall; I shall wash and dress her 
myself,” she said, looking back into the 
room. “ Cerity was my foster-sister, you 
know ; we nursed at the same breast.” 
Then she sat down trembling, and covered 
her face with her hands, the heavy drops 
trickling through her fingers. 

The night had grown hours older. Lu- 
cius had returned from his sad mission, 
and sat in a low chair beside the dead. 

At the foot of the bed knelt Rufus, his 


BOSS, 


99 


face crushed in the quilt. On a chair in 
the shadow, with her apron thrown over 
her head, Cindy rocked, back and forth, in 
a low frenzy. Low words of grief came 
mumbling across her lips. On the door- 
steps, her chin resting in the palm of her 
hand, her back against the woodwork of 
the door, crouched the Boss. She listened 
to the low voice of the woman in the cabin, 
and to the buzzing of the locusts outside. 
Dawn found them there. As the sun rose 
and the deep shadows gave place to cer- 
tainty, the girl got up stiffly from the door- 
step and went inside. 

“Come,” she said to Lucius, “you 
must have some coffee. I’ll change my 
habit and be right back.” Then she drew 
the apron down from Cindy’s face and 
kissed the wet cheek. 

“ Don’t, Mammy — Cerity’s so happy ! 
Come and see her — she looks so nice in her 
white dress ; it’s the one she used to beg 
me to wear. She’ll be glad to have it on, I 
think. 

In ten minutes Lucius had built a fire in 
the deserted kitchen. 

“ Boil the water,” said the Boss briefly, 
as she rolled up the sleeves of her habit and 
beat the coffee in a mortar. 


100 


BOSS. 


“ Ah ! It smells so good, we must make 
a pot and carry it over to mammy and 
Uncle Eufus.” 

“As soon as you have finished, you 
must go and lie down and try to get a little 
sleep,” said Lucius. Suddenly he lifted 
the pot from the fire, saying : “You can 
trust me to look after things.” 

The two drained their cups to the dregs 
in silence. Then the Boss, quite worn out 
by the night’s vigil, crept upstairs to her 
room, while Lucius went back to the si- 
lent cabin, with the hot, steaming coffee- 
pot in his hands. 

Warren paid its final tribute to poor 
little Cerity. A large number of blacks, 
with the folks from the homestead, 
gathered together for a last look upon the 
face of the girl they all had known so inti- 
mately in life. Lucius and Bob were the 
pall-bearers. The Boss walked between 
Mammy and Uncle Eufus. 

With wonderful tenderness the narrow 
coffin was laid to rest on the top of the 
hill, beneath gay flowering-plants. Mam- 
my was helpless with grief. Eufus watched 
every movement of the coffin with a long, 
wistful gaze. There was a throe of anguish 
in every heave of his breast. He gave a 


BOSS. 


101 


long, shuddering sigh as the box was fitted 
into its narrow space and the sod dropped 
upon it. A tear rolled down his face and 
mingled with the earth that covered little 
Cerity. 


102 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The silence of a sultry twilight was upon 
the land as Lucius walked out upon the 
balcony. He shaded his eyes with his 
hand, as though still blinded from the 
light in the dining-room. 

“ Colonel ! Oh, there you are,” he said, 
as he saw a slight glow from the Colonel’s 
pipe. “I should like a few words with 
you, sir.” 

“ Private ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ All hunky, lad.” 

Just then there was a soft step on the 
boards of the piazza, and the Boss walked 
up. She was dressed in a smooth, black 
gown, out of deference to Cerity. About 
her skirt hung sprigs and bits of green 
leaves, and she carried a straggling vine in 
her hand. To the soft wool of her frock 
thorns had attached themselves. She 
looked very beautiful. 

“ Po-pa — I want — ” she commenced with 


BOSS. 


103 


saddened slowness ; then stopped, as she 
saw her father and Lucius were close to- 
gether. She was about to pass on into the 
house without finishing her sentence, 
but her father uncrossed his feet from 
the railing, dropped his chair, and called 
out : 

“ Where have you been, daughter ? ” 

Then she came towards him. 

“Over yonder in the cemetery, Po-pa. 
Mammy and I were dressing Cerity’s 
grave.” 

The girl turned her soft, deep, lustrous 
eyes into the purple twilight, where she 
could see in the distance the white stones. 
There was a rich depth of moisture in her 
voice. 

Lucius stared at her willowy body 
curved forward, and felt his heart beat 
rapidly. His whole soul thrilled with a 
tremulous happiness that overwhelmed 
him. 

The Colonel emitted a dry cough and 
crinkled up his eyes ; then, with an un- 
conscious sigh, he tried to light his pipe, 
which was already burning brightly. 

“You look like your mother to-night, 
Boss,” he said huskily. “It must be all 
that blackness against your white face.” 


104 


BOSS. 


“Yes, do go and take it off,” said Lu- 
cius abruptly. 

“Is it so awfully unbecoming ? ” asked 
the girl, in her sincere manner. “ It 
might hurt dear old Mammy, if I went 
around in colors. Po-pa, I want a stone 
for Cerity’s grave — a big fine one, with — ” 

“ I’ve ordered a stone already from Rich- 
mond,” answered Lucius. Then he frown- 
ed at the landscape, as though afraid she 
might thank him. ‘ ‘ I received a wire to- 
day saying it will be down Tuesday, on the 
noon train.” 

The Boss went over and took him by the 
hand. 

“That was so good of you,” she said 
gently. Then, unable to say more, she 
turned and walked rapidly to the door- 
way leading into the house. She paused 
a moment on the sill, and a whisper crept 
through the stillness: — “You are al- 
ways good, Lucius.” Then she was gone. 

“If you want to talk to me, my boy, 
reckon we will find it cooler on the lawn,” 
the Colonel said softly. He jumped up 
from his chair and wiped the perspiration 
trickling down his brow. 

‘ ‘ Whew ! it’s a ripping, tearing night. 
It’s hot as the mischief.” 


BOSS. 


105 


“ All right, sir — just a minute. I want 
to fetch a match. Oh 1 Ah ! Thanks I ” 
Puff — puff — now — puff — puff — ‘ ‘ I’m 

ready.” 

“He’s in some trouble,” the Colonel 
mused thoughtfully. “ Nothing to his dis- 
credit, though, I’ll wager.” He linked his 
arm in Lucius’ and led him to the summer- 
house. “Well, lad ?” 

Lucius remained silent for a couple of 
seconds, pulling heavily at his cigar, but 
bis impenetrable face gave no clew to his 
thoughts. The tone of that rich, modu- 
lated voice, with its perceptible Southern 
inflection, still clung to his ears. Suddenly 
he pulled himself together, and made a 
forlorn attempt to smile. 

“ I am in trouble. Colonel — heart trouble,” 
he added in a low voice. 

The Colonel pushed his palmetto hat to 
the back of his head. 

“ Bless my soul, that’s the cussedest sort 
of an ache,” the elder man answered 
gravely. “ It hurts hardest and stays by 
you the longest. Who is she ? ” 

“ The Boss ! ” 

The Colonel’s face glowed. He half put 
out his hand, but drew it back again. A 
look of pain filled his eyes. 


106 


BOSS. 


“This is worse than I thought — much, 
much worse. How long has it been ? ” 

“ Since I first set eyes on her, I reckon.” 
“ Too bad ! ” — the Colonel was silent a 
minute — “too bad ! You have hurt me 
— you have hurt me ! Of course you 
know the Boss’ honor as well as my own 
is irrevocably pledged, both to the dead, 
my sister Patsy, also to the living, her son. 
If things had been otherwise, my boy, it 
would have given me great happiness to 
have welcomed you into the family. As 
it is,” he continued, in his low, winning 
voice, “as it is, we are bound by our word, 
though her heart should break. Thank 
God!” he said abruptly, “there is no 
chance of that. She couldn’t recall her 
word : ‘ Honor first ’ is the motto of the 
Camerons.” Then his eagle eyes fiashed 
and the grand head reared itself proudly. 

“But, Colonel, if she doesn’t love Bob, 
would you let her sacrifice her — ” 

“ Stop 1 ” exclaimed the Colonel haugh- 
tily ; “ there is no question of that. The 
Boss has pledged her word, I teU you. 
She is a Cameron.” 

Suddenly he turned full upon Lucius, 
devouring his white face with his piercing 
gaze. 


BOSS. 107 

“ She knows nothing of this, of 
course ? ” 

Lucius looked him in the eyes, never 
flinching. 

“ I have told her, sir.” 

The Colonel drew his upper lip back 
against his dry teeth. 

“ You coward ! ” he thundered. “ You 
damned coward I ” 

Lucius faced the older man, his eyes 
ablaze and pallid as death. His hand 
opened and shut with fury. He turned 
around blindly, as if to beat down a lion 
with his fist, but opened it immediately 
and spread wide the fingers. 

“ You are protected, sir — your age. 
Besides, you are her father,” he stam- 
mered. 

The Colonel gasped. He was terrible — 
terrible in his great wrath. Then he said : 

“A poor excuse. Like a slimy snake, 
you crawl into a man’s house under the 
guise of friendship and infest it with your 
poisonous breath ; then deny the only 
satisfaction possible. Thank God, your 
father died before this day ! John Strange 
was a gentleman.” 

Lucius blushed deeply, then turned pale. 
The cold drops of perspiration in the roots 


108 


BOSS. 


of his hair ran down his white brow. The 
shot had told. 

He bowed his head before the other, who 
stood there like an aroused tiger. 

“Good God! hear me,” exclaimed Lu- 
cius hoarsely. “I tried to down the 
temptation. It was irresistible. It over- 
whelmed me. One day I told her — I 
couldn’t help it — that sounds unmanly to 
you — but it’s God’s own truth. If you 
ever loved her mother — you say she looked 
like her — then you may know in part 
something of my sufferings.” 

The Colonel regarded him in silence for 
some seconds, with a strange expression on 
his face. 

“And does she love you?” he asked 
with difficulty. 

“I am afraid so, sir. Yes,” 

“God I My Boss — my Boss — my own 
little girl !” Every trace of anger had 
faded from his face ; only a depth of sor- 
row showed itself. “ You spoke of her 
mother, man ; you did well to remind me. 
It has softened my heart as nothing else 
would have done. I have it half in my 
mind to forgive you. The situation, though, 
is the same — only more tragic. We must 
keep our word and hide our heart-ache. 


BOSS. 


109 


There is only one thing to be done — you 
must go away at once. My words may 
sound severe — maybe they are. You 
brought it on yourself, though, lad — 
brought it on yourself. I would dig my 
girl’s grave with my own two hands rather 
than have her break her word.” 

The old man’s face looked resplendent. 
His voice grew sweet and low, and almost 
broke into a sob, as he whispered, “Ger- 
trude, my wife, we need you, the Boss 
and I.” 

Lucius looked at him helplessly. 

‘ ‘ I’ll go, sir — to-morrow early. I will 
never trouble you any more. I think it 
best I should not see the Boss again ; in 
time she will forget. I won’t tell any one 
where I am going — not even Bob.” He 
winced. “ I don’t want any one to know. 
I will go away quietly, and no one will be 
the wiser. I’ll go and pack now, sir. I 
feel bewildered and stupid. Will you—” 
he hesitated, half stretched out his hand, 
and then waited— “will you shake 
hands ? ” 

The Colonel looked at him steadily ; then 
slowly put out his fine, long hand, with 
fingers that looked like the Boss’. Lucius 
grasped it firmly. 


no 


BOSS. 


“Thank you, sir. You will never re- 
gi-et it — never I ” 

While the Colonel and Lucius were over 
in the summer-house, the Boss sat on the 
steps leading into Mammy’s cabin. One 
arm rested across Cindy’s lap; her long 
hair had fallen about her shoulders, and 
trailed on the white dovetailed floor. In- 
side the cabin the candles had been lighted ; 
outside, the odor of cedar and pine - cones 
fllled the air. 

“ O Mammy! Mammy,” the Boss cried, 
with hands clasped hard. ‘ ‘ I am so tired I ” 

“ Ez yo’, honey ?” the old woman said 
gently. “Yo’ walked too fur. Lemme 
rub yo’ haid ; I’ll sen’ de mis’ry to de 
debbil.” 

The Boss laid her cool, pale cheek against 
the homespun apron, while the yellow- 
palmed hands, with perfect tapering An- 
gers, moved to and fro, like huge cush- 
ions. 

‘ ‘ That’s it. Mammy — that’s heavenly I 
So ! Oh, I am tired all through ; I ache 
from my head to my heels.” She opened 
her eyes and then stared at the stars, say- 
ing : “I wonder if Cerity’s up there.” 

“ Sho’, honey. She don’ lef’ we’s in de 


BOSS. 


Ill 


darkness, but she don’ fix herse’f in Aber- 
ham’s busom. She ez one ob dem lights 
up dyah now.” 

“Where’s Uncle Rufus?” the Boss 
asked presently. 

“Dunno, honey. He dun teck all de 
heart out o’ me, he kyahn’t git no res’ 
sense Cerity’s don’ gone. All night yo’ 
kyahn heah him cry in’. He jes’ seems to 
be gittin’ older an’ older ; his eyes ez gettin’ 
dat wistful, like he’s seein fur off — po’ 
Tiddy boy ! ” Mammy sopped her wet 
eyes with a frayed corner of her apron. 

“ Don’t cry,” whispered the Boss, softly, 
“ don’t cry.” 

“ I ain’, honey, I ain’. I ez jes’ grevin’.” 

“Mammy,” said the Boss, lying back 
silent, with closed eyes, and thoughts drift- 
ing languidly without effort, “tell me a 
story.” 

A slight breeze had sprung up. The 
candles flickered unsteadily. Then one by 
one they went out. Mammy reflected. 

“ Shet yo’ eyes, my lamb — lemme tink. 
Did I liver tell yo’ ’bout Nancy Pike ? 
Dat po’ critter ! I never erwine forgit dat 
gal — nuver ! ” 

The Boss made the sign “ No,” with her 
head. She was thinking of her downy bed, 


112 


BOSS. 


and the cool freshness of the white sheets. 
Mammy began in a deep voice that came 
from her throat. 

“ Nancy Pike wuz a beauty ; she sut’n’y 
wuz. She had gret, sorf’ black eyes like 
sloes, an’ her skin wuz de color o’ yaller 
roses. Her hyah wuz straight an’ black as 
nite, jes’ befo day come, an’ her figger wuz 
plump an’ impident like. I tell yo’ she 
wuz a mighty sprightly young gal. Ez I 
too rough, honey ? Meh ole black ban’s 
feel like saws.” 

“ No, Mammy ; go on, please.” 

The old woman continued : ‘ ‘ Marse Hull 
owned two black niggers, dat wuz used fur 
to tote in de wood fur de big house. One 
wuz name’ Pete, uver he wuz name’ Jim ; 
an’ dey bof wuz cotin’ Nancy, an’ bof wuz 
monstrous fond o’ each uver. Befo’ G-ord, 
dat nigger wuz jis’ projectin’ ; she dunno 
which she liked mos’, Pete nor Jim. 
Bimeby , she ax dem to come to some o’gree- 
ment ; but it seem like dey dunno, caws 
dey bof loved her mighterly, an’ dey 
couldn’t ’sent to gib her up. At the same 
time, dey wuz so true to each uver dat 
nuver would teck her widout de uver said 
so. Dey was mos’ ’stracted, an’ would 
groan at nite an’ cry out. ’Twuz torment, 


BOSS. 


113 


sho’ nuf . ” Mammy stopped for breath and 
then went on, in a slow, low voice : “ Well, 
bimeby, dey had a talk in de corner yard 
ober by de fence. Dey ax her to teck a walk, 
an’ she say, ‘ Sut’n’y.’ Her voice wuz so 
sorf an’ low an’ sweet dey mighty nigh run 
away ; but when dey got her out dyah in 
de woods, whar de ole coon lives an’ whar 
no one could heah her cry out, dey beat 
her in de haid wid an ax dat dey used fur 
choppin’ wood. She drag like a lump o’ 
lead. Den dey fell down an’ kissed her an’ 
cried an’ beat dey bres’ an’ say, ‘ Gord, 
heah we’s ! ’ Den in a minute, ‘ Whack — 
whack ’ — an’ dey don’ sen dey black souls 
to hell. Honey, yo’ ain’ listenin’.” 

The end of the story was unheard by the 
Boss. Her sense of hearing was lost, for 
she had sunk to slumber beneath the touch 
of Mammy’s fingers. 

8 


114 


BOSS, 


CHAPTER IX. 

Lucius sat alone in his room late that 
night. He had taken up his gun, sud- 
denly drawn it to his shoulder and sighted 
an imaginary object. His big body shiv- 
ered, however, and he missed his aim. 
After a moment he walked over and stood 
it up in the corner, behind the door. Then 
he trimmed the lamp with a pair of rusty 
pocket-scissors, and from a drawer in the 
table drew out pen, ink, and paper. He 
commenced to write : 

“ I am going away, and am writing now 
to say good-bye, dear little girl. To-night, 
in the summer-house, your father ordered 
me off the plantation, and used words that 
beat like blows upon my soul. He spoke 
of my father — they were sword-cuts every 
sentence. Perhaps I deserved them — God 
knows. Anyhow, I am going away — 
that’s the point between you and me. I 
start in the morning early — an hour before 
you will have opened your eyes. I know 


BOSS. 


115 


the time exactly. For five years I have 
watched you come to the window; with 
that beautiful exhaustion still clinging 
to you from your warm sleep, my girl — 
dear, dear girl ! 

“ I shall do a little traveling ; perhaps 
take up some of my old studies — not many 
just yet. Some day, you may hear of me 
as a lawyer. You wanted me to be some- 
thing. I’ll try, for your sake. I loved you 
patiently at first; but just toward the last, 
honey, I felt I had to give some sign. Now 
I am to lose you altogether. How I shall 
miss you I Every day — almost every hour 
— during the past five years, I had only to 
walk from this room to the big house to 
find you. From to-night, you will be at 
one end of the world — I at the other. The 
world is such a big place — and cruel, 
too ! 

“ I wonder if you know how you have 
filled every crevice in my heart, until there 
is no room for anything else but misery ? 
Of course you do ! Didn’t we talk it over 
that day of the race ? My girl ! My body 
feels languid and listless to-night, and my 
brain stupid. Boss, after your father 
spoke to me, I came into my room and 
shut the door ; for I couldn’t trust myself 


116 


BOSS. 


to see you again. I threw myself on the 
bed and fell to weeping desperately. It’s a 
long, long time since I wept — not since you 
had diphtheria, and the doctor said you 
might die. I cried that night, but nobody 
knew it. Afterwards I slept. When I 
awoke I felt like an old, old man, pinched 
and old. The remembrance of that talk 
with your father to-night is like a bad 
dream. 

“ My girl, this letter is getting too sad ; 
it is high time I cut it short. Three words 
more : God bless you ! 

Lucius. 

“ P.S. I have your glove — the one you 
dropped from the big window in the hall. 
It is pink and has six buttons.” 

He signed and folded the letter he had 
finished, and addressed it in a firm, large 
hand. Then he drew a pin from the lapel 
of his coat and stuck it through the en- 
velope. He glanced around him helplessly 
and rubbed his head. Then, fired with sud- 
den inspiration, he fastened it to the edge 
of the bureau. 

“ They will see it after I am gone,” he 
said, and mechanically busied himself in 


BOSS. 


117 


sorting the heterogeneous mass of rackets, 
broken masks, rusty foils, game-bags, box- 
ing-gloves, etc. 

Without warning, the littered floor swam 
and plunged before him. Then it disap- 
peared altogether, and he sat down and 
groped about him helplessly, as all the 
blood in his big body seemed to be thunder- 
ing at his brain, and the veins beat like 
whipcords in his throat. 

“I shall go clean crazy if this strain 
lasts,” he murmured to himself. 

His lips quivered, and Anally stiffened, 
while his strong brown Angers met over 
the knuckles and interlocked. Then the 
Angers crept to the eyelids. His eyes felt 
like balls of living Are. 

Suddenly he heard the passing of feet 
upon the grass. He leaned upon one elbow 
and listened. The sound died away. Then 
it returned from the other side of the house. 
With the gaze of a trapped deer, he Axed 
his eyes upon the window. The cold drops 
stood upon his forehead, and he could see 
his breast rise and fall. 

“Boss ! It’s she !” he muttered, with 
an inexpressible sickening of the heart. 

A tall, white flgure stood in bas-relief 
against the night. It was the Boss. She 


118 


BOSS. 


laid one bare arm against the lintel of the 
window, her face as white as his. 

“You?” 

“Yes, 1.” 

Lucius stumbled to his feet and moved 
backwards with outstretched palms. 

A faint breeze lifted a lock of the girl’s 
copper- colored hair. Behind her, the black 
night was unbroken. 

“You ! You ! O Boss ! you should 
have spared me.” There was deep misery 
in his voice. 

The Boss’ arms moved once towards him. 
Then she cast down her eyes and shud- 
dered. 

“I have just heard you were going 
away. Mammy told me.” She spoke 
slowly, as if every word were an effort. 
“If you are going away, if we are to 
part forever, we can at least say farewell ! 
1 don’t think even Po-pa could be cruel 
enough to prevent that.” 

Lucius groaned. 

She stretched out her arms towards him. 

“ Help me up.” 

With a strong effort, as though against 
his will, Lucius moved slowly in her 
direction. 

“Hurry I” 


BOSS. 


119 


Then he put his arms out and lifted her 
on to the sill, saying under his breath, 
‘ ‘ Boss, why did you do this ? ” She looked 
past him into the lighted room. 

“ You would have left without one word 
— one single word ! ” 

He pointed to the note pinned to the 
edge of the bureau. “ I wrote,” he said 
hoarsely. 

The Boss slipped down from the sill and 
touched the carpet with her little toes. 
Lucius noticed her gown was damp around 
the hem from the night dew. 

“ Give it to me,” she said, with a pathe- 
tic gesture. She took the note, and held it 
at a little distance between her finger and 
thumb. 

“ It’s thick.” 

Then she placed it in the bosom of her 
dress. 

“Lucius,” she said in her low, mellow 
voice, “ I’ve come to talk to you and to 
listen to you.” 

“Boss, I beg of you to go, dear. Oh, 
girl ! you will ruin me completely ! ” 
Then he caught her hand and held it tight 
with a gentle rudeness. “ Go, before I 
become an infernal coward again ! ” 

The girl shook her head. 


120 


BOSS. 


“I could not let you leave,” she said 
huskily, “ without seeing you.” At the 
same time she lifted her eyes and met his 
stern face bravely. “You might as well 
be civil to me,” she continued, placing 
her two hands, one upon the other, over 
her breast, “ for I mean to stay my 
time.” 

Lucius turned with a sigh to the lamp on 
the table. 

It flickered unsteadily ; he blew it out. 
Then he struck a match on the sole of his 
shoe, and held it high above his head. 

“ What are you looking for ? ” 

“ The student’s lamp. Oh, I see it ! 
It’s over on the bureau.” 

“ Why did you blow out that light be- 
fore you found the other lamp ? ” asked 
the girl wonderingly. 

Lucius opened wide his eyes. “ Why — 
why — ” he stammered, looking helplessly 
back at her. ‘ ‘ I don’t know — I am losing 
my brain.” 

There was a long stretch of silence ; then 
the Boss picked up a disjointed gun. 

“ Let me help you pack. May I ? ” 

As she glanced up, she caught Lucius’ 
burning eyes fastened upon her. 

“ Lucius — Lucius 1 ” she cried, all the 


BOSS. 121 

forced calmness gone, a wild animation 
filling her eyes, “ don’t leave me ! ” 

Lucius stood opposite her, and was about 
to move backwards again, his face pinched 
with pain, when a sudden tremor ran 
through him. 

“ Lucius ! ” piteously cried the Boss. 

Her voice mastered him, and he sank 
upon his knees putting his arms about 
her. He placed his throbbing head against 
her bodice, and they both burst into 
tears. 

For ten minutes there was no sound, ex- 
cept the duet of sobbing. Then he arose 
slowly. Boss stumbled back against the 
table, which was on castors ; it tipped and 
rolled off to one corner. 

“ Take care ! ” 

Lucius sprang forward and caught her 
in his arms. Motionless, with hushed 
breathing, they stared at each other. 

“ Boss ! ” 

“ Lucius ! ” 

“My beautiful twin stars!” said he, 
gently closing her eyes with kisses and 
stroking her hair, so tenderly, so tenderly. 
“ Oh ! if you only belonged to me — 
alone — mine — for time and eternity — 
through life and death— my girl— oh, my 


122 


BOSS. 


girl ! God ! God 1 ” he cried, fondling 
her lovely little fingers. “ She’s mine, 
heart, soul and body — every bit of her, 
and I’ve got to give her up.” He laid his 
white face against her still whiter one. 
“ Core of my heart — my soul — mine — 
mine 1 ” He held her two hands clasped 
tightly in his. 

From time to time, they lifted their 
heads and looked at each other. He had 
drawn her to the window. The moonlight 
shone upon her white dress, as she leaned 
over against him, in her softness and 
suppleness. 

A. great silence made itself felt. Over 
in the big house a loud-sounding clock 
hurriedly struck the hour of three. 

“ The time to say good-bye has come,” 
Lucius murmured. 

The girl folded her hands and then 
closed her eyes, as if to shut out a sting- 
ing pain. 

“ Must I go ? ” 

“ Yes, my girl.” 

She started and stared at him with wide- 
open eyes. 

“ It is for always,” she said. “ O Lu- 
cius ! I cannot.” She lifted her lips and 
caressed the hungry, deep lines drawn 


BOSS. 


123 


about his mouth, murmuring brokenly, 
“ O, my dear ! take me with you. Lu- 
cius, — I mean to be strong ; but how 
can I, with the pain in your great eyes look- 
ing at me ? I am speaking from my soul — 
not from my lips. I have suffered so much, 
and kept it back so long. It was hard to 
keep away from you, dear. I did not want 
to break my word to Bob — poor Bob ! I 
prayed night and day, but the prayers did 
not work. My love only deepened, until 
to-night, when I heard you were going, I 
felt I could face death and disgrace — any- 
thing, only I must get to you I Don’t 
you hear me, Lucius ? 

The man started. His limbs trembled. 

“ I hear you,” he replied slowly. “ I 
too have prayed. To-night your father 
called me a coward. Dear, I beg you to 
go — it will soon be light.” There was a 
purple glow just visible on the hill-tops. 
‘ ‘ You must go at once. If I were to 
take you with me, you would hate me in a 
year. I know you, with your exaggerated 
ideas of honor. Eespect would not ce- 
ment our love. You are your father’s own 
daughter, and he is a fanatic on the sub- 
ject, and has instilled into you his prin- 
ciple — a hyperbolical principle. It’s bred 


124 


BOSS. 


in your bone — part of you. God ! I could 
bear anything but your hatred.” 

“ Hush ! ” said the Boss ; “ it’s over. I 
am going.” 

“ Kiss me.” 

When he had kissed her once she held 
her mouth close up to him that he might 
kiss it again. 

“ Good-bye, girl ! Christ watch over 
you.” He stretched his hands yearningly 
over her head and gave an instinctive 
benediction. She moved towards the door 
gropingly ; her long strands of hair hung 
about her shoulders and her dress trailed 
behind her, crumpled and soiled. 

The man watched her, anguish smoulder- 
ing in his eyes. Then suddenly he felt 
weary — oh, so weary ! 

As she reached the door she turned and 
waved her hand back at him. The clock 
struck four. 

Lucius staggered after her, as if to call 
her back ; then he sank against the closed 
door. He lay there for an hour — in a 
deathlike, dreamless sleep. 


BOSS. 


126 


CHAPTER X. 

Two hours later, the roaring of many 
voices roused the Boss from an exhausted 
sleep. 

Starting off the bed, where she had 
thrown herself in her crumpled gown, with 
excited pulses she ran to the window and 
looked down upon a farrage of men, women 
and children. It seemed as though the 
yard could not hold the crowd ; fighting, 
cursing, scrambling, they reached the 
gate. 

She swung about and faced Cinders, just 
entering the room. The black woman’s 
hands were shaking, and her eyeballs 
bulged out with horror. 

“ What — what is it ? ” asked the Boss, 
pointing with tragic finger to the window. 

“ Gord ! Gord A’mighty I Mr. Owen 
don’ been kill ; an’ dey say Massa Lucius 
shot him.” 

The Boss’ face blanched white, and her 
superb gray eyes fiashed back at Cinders 
from beneath her drawn brows. 


126 


BOSS, 


“ Who dared to say that of him ?” 

“ Don’ look like dat, meh lamb. Don’ 
doit,” pleaded Cinders brokenly. 

“Answer me !” she cried, her gaze 
fastened upon the window. 

“Ebrybody — de whole village, an’ part 
o’ Buckingham, ez down dar,” Cinders said 
under her breath. 

“ White-livered skunk I ” to kill a man 
on his own ground, floated up from be- 
low. The Boss unconsciously muttered 
the words which the chorus was roaring 
outside. Then, with trembling fingers, 
she began to pile up her hair. She went 
to the closet and took a large black cloak 
from a peg and threw it about her, hiding 
her disarranged costume. 

Outside she found her father over by the 
fence. Close to him were two men, one 
of his own age, sharp-featured and senile 
of face, in whom she recognized the sheriff. 
He was trying to assume an air of in- 
difference, while from his long, skeleton- 
like fingers were suspended a pair of 
handcuffs. 

The human wall wavered perceptibly as 
she appeared, and greeted her with a 
hoarse murmur. 

‘ ‘ What is the matter, Po-pa ? ” the Boss 


BOSS. 


127 


asked, trying to still her heart’s pulsation. 
“What are these people doing in our 
yard ? ” 

The sheriff cleared his throat, and made 
a movement as if about to speak. 

The Colonel put up his hand, with a 
quick, decisive motion. 

“ Stop ! ” His eyes narrowed and glowed 
like a panther’s. “ These dogs ” — his voice 
trembled with suppressed fury — “have 
dared to enter my grounds unasked. They 
say Bill Owen was found murdered in his 
corn-field. Of course, we are sorry ; but 
what in hell has that got to do with us ? 
Damn the whole lot of them ! ” 

The sheriff shook his head. 

“ Lem me say bar word atopper yourn’s. 
Colonel.” 

“ Silence ! ” thundered the Colonel, a 
terrible light of anger shining in his face. 
The sheriff frowned and gnawed his lips. 

The Boss turned away. Over in the 
corner she caught sight of Lucius, who 
was facing the crowd like a leader of men. 
His figure was drawn to its full height, 
and a look of calm, serene dignity was 
upon his face. 

The Boss stared dully at him, her bi- 
zarre mind growing luminous with ad- 


128 


BOSS. 


miration. Close beside him, so as to de- 
fend him if necessary, was Bob. He was 
in his shirt-sleeves. One sleeve, rolled 
up, showed a magnificent development of 
arm and shoulder ; the joy of a fight 
lighted up his languid eyes. 

The Boss continued to stare. She was 
trying to realize this terrible thing. 

A greasy, sore-eyed negro boy, no 
higher than a boot, and the color of coal- 
dust, with ragged trousers hitched over 
his dilapidated shoes, glanced up at her 
drawn, set face, and turned away mutter- 
ing : “ De Lawd hev mussy ! ” 

Lucius was speaking in a voice that 
seemed to fill the whole earth with its 
presence. A superb, commanding manner 
was upon him now ; and he was talking 
with a power that conquers, absorbing the 
attention of the crowd by the sheer force 
of his wonderful magnetism. 

“ My men, I am here ; what do you 
want of me ? ” 

A low, indistinct mumbling of the throng 
was the only answer. 

Lucius’ voice rang out again : 

“ You are most of you well acquainted 
with me, and my claim to the title of an 
honorable man.” 


BOSS. 129 

Before the Boss’ eyes rose a mist, and 
she could scarcely see Lucius’ figure. 

“You have accused me of a horrible 
crime — a dirty, cowardly action. The 
only evidence against me is — you found 
my gun in the same field with the mur- 
dered man. Supposing I were to tell you 
that my gun was stolen from me over a 
week ago.” 

“Prove it. Mister, prove it!” hissed 
the sneering voices. 

Lucius crossed his arms. The mob 
pressed more closely to him. 

“I can and will — only man to man. I 
insist upon time. You have put upon my 
shoulders the burden of a coward. You 
are trying to poison your minds against 
me. All at once you hate me ; you clamor 
for my blood ; you have told me what I 
am. Very well, let me tell you what you 
are. You are a lot of simple folks, blinded 
by false sentiment — a sentiment that is 
as cowardly as it is illegitimate. I am 
looking you straight in the eyes — I deny 
any knowledge of this murder. Absolutely 
defenceless I stand here. I don’t believe 
there is a cur among you mean enough to 
shoot an unarmed man. If there is, let 
him show his sneaking face. 

9 


130 


BOSS. 


“ Well ? ” 

There was not a movement, except the 
surreptitious lowering of stones and 
putting away of pistols. 

“You have come to arrest me. I am 
ready. I invite you to follow me to the 
jail.” 

He gazed fixedly at the throng, and 
then curled his lip. 

“ What ? You won’t go ? Then to hell 
with you ! do you hear ? ” He turned to Bob. 
“ Put on your coat,” he said, in his usual 
voice. “ There won’t be any fight to day.” 

This intrepid manner had awed the 
brutes as nothing else could have done. 
The Boss made her way to him, without 
any distinct idea of what she was going to 
say. 

Before he was aware of her presence, a 
pair of beautiful but despairing hands 
seized him. He started violently, and his 
dark face fiushed as he looked at her with 
a curious gleam in his eyes. 

“ What do you think of it ? ” 

“As long as they didn’t attack you,” 
she said, with a sudden wildness in her 
voice, “it’s all right. You can easily tell 
them I was with you at the time. I can 
be a witness.” 


BOSS. 


131 


“ Boss ! Not a word — not a word — to 
any one, mind.” He spoke with strong 
emphasis. 

“But,” she said in a passionate, loud 
whisper. 

Lucius’ eyes grew stern and grave. 

“ There are no huts. Promise me.” 

The Boss folded her arms resolutely. 

“I will not promise. I would be a 
coward,” she said, looking straight up at 
him, her gray eyes full of determination. 
Lucius gazed back at her, with deep black 
shadows under his eyes. 

“Boss,” he said slowly, pausing 
between each word, as though to make 
them more impressive, “ at least give me 
your word, as a woman to a man, that you 
will say nothing until I give you leave. 
It will blow over in a day or two, the 
right man is sure to turn up. It’s only 
a matter of a few hours — a day at the 
most. By keeping quiet, Boss, you save 
your father’s heart from breaking,” the 
girl winced — “ and Bob’s happiness. 
Promise me, dear — promise I ” 

“ I — c — c — can’t.” 

“Promise! ” 

The Boss thought for a second, with eyes 
fixed, and arms hanging by her side. 


132 


BOSS. 


“ I will promise you this much : I will 
send you word if I find I must speak.” 

“ I ” — Lucius tried twice before he could 
answer — “ thank you.” Then he turned 
away as if to go, but suddenly bethought 
himself and turned back, took her hand 
and pressed it quickly. 

“Good-bye.” 

The Boss stood where he had left her, 
with closed fists pressed against her breast, 
to still the furious beating of her heart. 

Without so much as a glance at the men- 
acing faces around him, Lucius walked 
over to where Eufus, with trembling fin- 
gers, held the bridle of his horse. The old 
man seemed to be utterly broken by grief ; 
the sweat of apprehension covered his face. 
His bloodshot eyes and quivering lips told 
of his misery. 

“ Don’t look so depressed. Uncle Rufus.” 

“ Sah?” 

“ I said cheer up ; it will all come 
right.” 

“ I dunno. Yo’ kyant tell, Massa ; yo’ 
kyant tell.” 

“ You’ll see.” 

Lucius deliberately put one foot into the 
stirrup and leaped into the saddle. 

Bob, who had disappeared behind the 


BOSS. 133 

house for a moment, returned hurriedly 
and whispered : 

“These drunken fools are muttering 
something about holding you up in the 
road. “ It’s the Colonel, you and I against 
these black devils ; how many guns have 
you ? ” 

Lucius looked surprised. 

“None.” 

“ I’ll step into your room and bring all 
I can find. Keep a sharp eye in your head. 
I don’t like that damned sheriff. Ride on 
a pace, and I’ll catch up.” 

Before any one was aware of it. Bob 
crossed the yard and whispered instructions 
into the Colonel’s ear. Turning toward 
the cottage, he stumbled against the figure 
of a negro, crouching on his hands and 
knees. 

“ Out of my way, you black beast, or 
I’ll blow a hole clean through you ! ” he 
yelled, the drawl aU gone from his voice, 
and his languid manner changed into the 
fierceness of a lion. 

Over by the gate Lucius sat his horse 
like a soldier, a tumult of thought behind 
his massive brow. 

“ Come on ! ” he cried, with a gesture 
of impatience. He took off his hat, and 


134 


BOSS. 


made a low, sweeping bow to the Boss ; 
then like a general at the head of his troops, 
put spurs to his horse and galloped away. 

With sudden action the crowd took up 
and followed him. 

The Boss stood hearkening, her lips white. 
A man screamed, “ Give him a rope cra- 
vat ! ” A hideous shriek of delight greeted 
the words. 

Bob dashed out of the cottage, a gun in 
each hand. 

“Where’s my horse ?” he shouted des- 
perately. Quick as a flash he grabbed the 
bridle and flung himself into the saddle. 

In a second the yard, that had been 
swarming with flgures, was deserted, save 
by one, the Boss. 

She stood there, a pallid image of help- 
lessness. Her eyes grown huge with terror, 
and with a wild gasp she wheeled half 
around and covered her face with her 
hands. Then she fell upon the ground, as 
if she had received a blow over the heart. 

Like a stroke of lightning something 
flashed through her brain : “ I will follow 
him ! ” 

She gathered up her long skirts, grab- 
bing her cloak, which had come undone. 
There was a quick swish of drapery over 


BOSS, 


135 


the grass, and the gleam of a terrified pal- 
lid face, and the Boss had clasped her fair 
white hands under the “ Brier’s ” belly and 
fastened the girths. 

‘ ‘ Dear God, save him ! Save him ! ” she 
whispered hoarsely. A gleaming white 
arm reached for the bridle, and the girl 
vaulted into the saddle. 

Bang ! Bang ! 

“Dear God, save him ! Save him ! 
Save him ! ” 

She saw figures dart away — dodge ; 
then rally again. 

Bang ! Bang ! Bang ! 

On, on she galloped, Sweetbrier gaining 
by her terrific speed. Suddenly, there 
was a howl from the blacks crowding after 
him. 

Bang ! Bang ! Bang ? 

Then she saw them all in wild confusion. 
Some of the blacks had thrown themselves 
upon the ground ; others, demoralized, 
turned tail and were running pell-mell 
across the field, over the hill. More shots 
were fired . Then despair — that soul-crush- 
ing, blinding despair — lifted a little from 
her face, and an unspeakable thanksgiving 
filled her eyes. Ahead, the Colonel, Lu- 
cius and Bob were riding three abreast. A 


136 


B0S8, 


few harmless blacks followed in their wake. 
The Boss rode on, motionless in her saddle, 
with her head outlined against the clear 
sky, and her cloak hanging from one shoul- 
der and trailing over the side of the horse 
in the dust. And so on, mile upon mile — 
her eyes always fastened upon the central 
figure ahead. 

Outside the town of Charlottesville the 
Boss drew rein. With an inarticulate 
note of pathetic thanksgiving she watched 
the trio disappear. Then she turned her 
horse’s head, and began her journey back. 

Reaction had set in. The usual swift- 
ness of her brain had disappeared : she sud- 
denly became conscious of great physical 
weakness. The mental agony lost itself 
in the pallid distance before the cramped 
condition of her limbs. For the first time 
she remembered that she was on a man’s 
saddle. In her fright she had caught up 
the first at hand, and the long ride — the 
tension of her nerves had exhausted her. 
The heart-rung drops of blood had ceased 
to fiow ; and, more like a dead creature, 
she slowly crept over the hills and cliffs, 
a creeping chill of blackness enshrouding 
her. Meg and Mammy met her at the 
first gate. 


BOSS. 


137 


‘ ‘ Boss ! Oh, Boss ! ” cried Meg brokenly. 

“ My honey lamb ! Oh, my lamb ! Oh, 
my Lawd ! ” 

The Boss reached out her hand with 
the fixed gaze of one that sees something 
far off, a quivering smile breaking over 
her face. 

“ He — is — safe — Mammy ! ” 

Then she slid from the saddle onto the 
ground, and lay upon her face like a dead 
woman. 

* * 

That afternoon the Colonel sat in the 
front room of Dick Brunswick’s law office. 
He had drawn a peat-bottomed chair close 
to the window, and turned a slat in the 
green blind, so as to watch what passed in 
the street. His knees were drawn close 
together, a hand on either arm of the 
chair. His head was thrust forward, his 
face white, with little mottles of red in the 
cheeks. 

The office was a very homely one. Two 
of the walls were covered with shelves 
containing rows of dusty law-books. 

At the other end of the shelves was a 
mantel. The stove, rusty and old, the 
isinglass in shreds, stood conspicuously in 
the centre of the room. 


138 


BOSS. 


A home-woven carpet covered only a 
portion of the deal-floor, and over the 
pigeon - holes, next to the desk, hung a 
steel engraving of General Eobert E. Lee. 

On another peat-bottomed chair, on the 
other side of the window, sat Dick 
Brunswick, lawyer and statesman. 

Dick Brunswick was a man of great 
height, and the thinness of his legs gave 
him the appearance of being even taller. 
He wore his broadcloth coat buttoned 
close to his sharp, shaven chin. 

He had black hair, which was parted on 
the side, and brought down in a deep 
scollop over his broad brow. His face was 
thin and haggard, but an air of perfect 
self-control characterized the man. 

In a few words the Colonel explained the 
situation ; his story was interlarded with 
scorching invectives. 

The lawyer had listened attentively, a 
keen interest gathering in his eyes. Then 
he cleared his attenuated throat and said, 
looking steadfastly at the Colonel : 

“ Sounds pretty bad.” 

The Colonel shook his fist, and made a 
step towards the door. 

“ Damn it ! I don’t care how bad it 
sounds. You do the best you know how. 


BOSS. 139 

but get him out of that cursed lock-up as 
soon as you can. What say ? ” 

The lawyer looked up slowly : 

“ Haven’t said a word.” 

The Colonel rumpled his white hair up 
with his hand. 

“ The boy’s as innocent as you or I, 
Dick Brunswick. By God, sir, if it takes 
the whole damned law to prove it, it’s got 
to be done ! ’’ 

“Hold on. Colonel,” said the lawyer 
gravely ; “ it’s obvious that we have got 
to deal with very tangible facts.” 

Then the lawyer rose, deliberately took 
his hat from a peg, dusted the top off 
with his elbow. 

“ Reckon I’ll go and see Lucius. Come 
along. Colonel ; come along. We had 
better go together.” 

They walked out of the office, down the 
main street, arm in arm, two of the tallest 
men in Virginia. 


140 


BOiSS, 


CHAPTER XI. 

Mammy picked up the Boss in her strong 
arms and carried her to her room, where 
she laid her tenderly down among the 
soft pillows. Meg rubbed her feet and 
moaned in a wistful way, stopping every 
now and then to wring her hands in des- 
pair. 

After her swoon the Boss went into a 
deep sleep, which lasted three hours. 
When she opened her eyes, she stared like 
one awakened from a nightmare. 

Mammy was bending over her. The 
Boss reached up feebly and drew down her 
face, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Boss,” said Meg with a sob, “isn’t 
it — ” Then her voice broke, and she could 
not say another word. 

The Boss regarded her vaguely. She 
looked confused ; then came remembrance. 
Suddenly her face grew rigid ; her eyes 
opened wide with terror. She crossed her 
arms over her face, as if to shut out the 


BOSS. 141 

view ; she was confronting the old agony 
again. Then she sobbed aloud. 

Mammy and Meg watched her, their own 
faces working with tears. 

“ Where — where is Bob ? Where is he ? ” 
she repeated several times. 

Meg drew close to the bed, and moved her 
arms down from her face. Her instinct 
told her this was something more than 
ordinary grief for a friend. She looked at 
the Boss tremblingly ; then she bent down 
her head and kissed her on the lips. 

“ Don’t cry so, dearest — don’t,” she whis- 
pered brokenly. ‘ ‘ Try to get up and come 
over by the window. Bob is with him.” 

They both helped her to rise, and she 
stood swaying a little, just in front of the 
bed. There was a blind look in the gray 
eyes. 

‘ ‘ They — ought— to— take — him — some 
clean clothes,” she said slowly. 

“ Lawd, honey ! Dey don’ sont Eufus 
mos’ two hours ago wid a change,” said 
Mammy, pushing a chair behind her and 
placing a pillow under her feet. 

“ I ez gwine to mek you some tea, Miss 
Meg. Don’ you let her move tell I come 
back. Yo’ heah ? ” 

Meg nodded her head. 


142 


BOSS. 


The old woman tiptoed across the room 
and closed the door upon her heels. The 
two girls sat holding each other’s hands. 
The Boss had turned her face to the black 
night, her eyes growing more wistful as 
the moments went by. No word passed 
between them until, soft as a breath, came 
the whisper : 

“ Of what use is anything ? ” 

“ What say, dear ? ” 

“ Oh, Meg — Meg ! ” said the Boss, rocking 
back and forth. ‘ ‘ In all my life I never 
imagined what suffering was until to-day. 
How I suffered — how I suffered ! It was 
terrible — terrible, terrible ! ” The pitiful 
repetition came almost hysterically from 
her lips. 

“I cannot think. How will it end? 
How will it all end ? ” She turned her head 
back to the window. 

Meg crouched on the floor, nursing her 
knees. She longed for the key to the Boss’ 
confidence, yet dared not ask. She could 
read in her face, interpret in her voice the 
terrible anguish that racked her soul. If 
it had been Bob — but Lucius ! Ah ! Meg’s 
face took on a startled look ; her pulse 
quickened, while confused myriads of 
recollections poured thick and fast upon 


BOSS. 143 

her brain. There was a moment’s re- 
flective pause. 

“ Boss,” said Meg uneasily. 

The Boss turned her face, and lifted her 
eyes with the look of one whose thoughts 
were elsewhere. 

“ What ? ” 

Meg clasped the girl’s hand and placed it 
against her cheek. 

‘ ‘ Tell me about it. I know what hap- 
pened after they left here. I met John 
tlusk on the road, and he told me. But 
before, I tried to get Mammy to explain, 
and she could think of nothing but that 
awful ride. How far did you go ? ” 

“ To Charlottesville,” the Boss said 
wearily. 

“ All the way ? ” 

“ All the way.” 

“ It’s twenty-five miles from here,” Meg 
said huskily, and choked as she touched 
the Boss’ hand softly. “No wonder you 
fainted. After we brought you back, you 
slept for three hours.” 

“ Did I ?” Then for three hours I did 
not know.” She paused a moment ; then 
said, in a voice that had the sound of 
absence in it still, “ I didn’t see him when 
they flrst accused him. It must have 


144 


BOSS. 


been fifteen or twenty minutes before the 
noise awoke me. They were all in the 
yard. When I ran downstairs, he was 
in the midst of them — ” Her hands locked 
in her lap grew tight. “Those cowards 
all had rocks and guns, and he — he — was 
unarmed. Oh ! mind you, he wasn’t 
afraid.” 

“ Of course he was not,” broke in Meg 
with eager comprehension. 

“ He stood there facing them, and said 
something, but I was too frightened to 
understand just what it was. It had the 
desired effect, though — for they let him 
go. Then — then — oh ! ” she said with a 
quick breath, “ they followed him. There 
were shots, one right after the other ; then 
a lot in a bunch. It was miraculous that 
no one was hurt — at least, I don’t think 
there was. Then I went crazy. The next 
thing I knew I was on Sweetbrier, gallop- 
ing after them.” 

Meg sprang up and looked down, with 
glittering eyes, into the Boss’ white face. 

“You and Lucius are bricks ! What a 
situation ! ” 

Then she saw a startled expression creep 
into the Boss’ face, and with a little moan 
of contrition she threw herself down be- 


BOSS. 145 

fore her chair and dropped her head on the 
girl’s knees. 

“ Go on, dear.” 

“That’s all,” said the Boss quietly. 
After she had spoken she sank back into 
her former attitude. They were silent 
again. It became so oppressive that Meg 
broke it in self-defence. The moon pushed 
its way through the droves of black clouds 
and flooded the room. Little puffs of hot 
air blew in at the window, and lifted the 
lace at the Boss’ throat. Outside, the 
dead trunks of the trees showed gleaming 
white. The other parts of the earth were 
lost in shadow and mist. The effect was 
fantastic. 

‘ ‘ Can’t they bail him out ? The idea of 
keeping a gentleman locked up all night 
in that jail, where they say rats come right 
out and sit in the middle of the floor ! ” 

Meg shuddered. The Boss gave her an 
absent, miserable look, and tried to deaden 
the throb of her pulse by counting the 
beats. 

“Human rats. They will surely find 
the real murderer soon. Poor Bill Owen, 
who could have hated him enough to kill 
him ? ” She sat thinking with her mind 
fixed upon a single idea : “ Some one 


146 


BOSS. 


stole Lucius’ gun. I wonder who it 
was ? ” 

“ One of the niggers ! ” exclaimed Meg 
with nervous abruptness. 

“ Of course — certainly. But who ? — 
who ? Oh, my God ! tell us who ! ” 
burst out the Boss. 

‘ ‘ S — h, ” said Meg soothingly. ‘ ‘ S — h I ” 

“ I can’t. You don’t know, or you 
would understand. Her face looked like 
a tragic mask in the chill moonlight. 

“ Tell me,” urged Meg gently. 

“I was — ” began the Boss. Then she 
stopped and stuck her fingers in her 
mouth. “ I c — c — can’t.” 

“ Why ?” 

“ I have given my word not to.” 

“That settles it,” said Meg resignedly. 
“You’d lose your tongue before you’d 
speak.” The Boss winced a trifle. 

“ The Colonel and Bob are with Lucius,” 
said Meg, after a little pause. 

“ Of course.” 

“They telegraphed while you were 
asleep for some things.” 

“So?” said the Boss. Then, after a 
moment, she asked : “ Did the telegram 
say anything more ? ” 


BOSS. 147 

“ Bob said to send over for me, but I was 
already here.” 

The Boss’ face drew her eyes. “That 
was all — nothing about him — not a word.” 

Quite close to them they could smell the 
steam of tea. Mammy spoke over the 
Boss’ shoulder. 

“lez got yo’ tea, honey, an’ a little 
snack, an’ a nigger don’ bring dis ’patch 
up from de station. I don’ guv him a 
quarter.” The Boss put out her trembling 
hand and broke the seal. 

Meg struck a match and held it close to 
the yellow envelope : 

“ Take good care of yourself. — Bob.” 

The paper fluttered out of the window 
to the ground. 

“Oh ! ” said the Boss. “ Oh ! ” 

She turned toward Mammy and held 
out her hand. 

“ Thank you,” she said quietly. “ I am 
thirsty ; give me the tea.” Suddenly she 
put down the saucer, and the cup rolled to 
the floor and broke into tiny pieces ; then 
she stood up straight and tried to lift her 
eyes. 

“Help — me — to — the — be — ” For the 
second time Boss in her healthy life the 
had fainted. 


148 


BOSS, 


CHAPTER XII. 

Lucius sat alone in his narrow cell. 

He had dragged a stool close into the 
shade of the small barred window. The 
twittering of the birds outside was the 
only sound of nature that stirred the cold 
stillness of the night. On a deal table, 
shoved in the corner, stood a candle, its 
wick growing tall as it burnt its way deep 
into the tallow. It cast lank, grotesque 
shadows on the wall opposite and silhou- 
etted the figure of the man — the sweeping 
moustache and thick locks of hair — with 
distinct clearness. Close to the candle, on 
the scarred table, with its circular drops 
of hot grease, lay an open box of Henry 
Clay cigars — Lucius’ sole belonging, in 
this, his new home. 

There was an instinctive raising of the 
man’s shoulders, and deep lines of finest 
scorn were carved about his mouth, as 
he glanced around him. Presently he 
got up, threw down his unfinished cigar, 


BOSS. 149 

and bit the end off a fresh one for a dry- 
smoke. 

Outside, two figures were approaching 
the cell — two men, one short with a red 
face, monstrous girth and good-natured 
lines crinkling in the waves of fat about 
his eyes ; the other taller by two heads, 
his careless nonchalance changed into a 
rigid resolution to stand by his friend to 
the bitter end. 

“ This way, sir,” said the smaller of the 
two. “ He is in No. 12.” The door of the 
cell slowly turned on its squeaking hinges 
and swung back with a mighty sound. 

Lucius glanced up in an impersonal 
way. Over the jailer’s shoulder, close to 
him, arched in the gloom was another 
face. 

Lucius sprang up, a look of unwonted 
pleasure lighting up his eyes. 

“ Bob.” 

“ Lucius.” 

The two hands met. For a moment 
they looked at each other ; then, with a 
queer little catch in his voice, Lucius 
pointed to the stool. 

“ Sit down, old chap ; it was awfully 
good of you to come.” 

He pushed the box of cigars aside and 


150 


BOSS. 


sat on the edge of the table, the light of 
the candle showing his white face, with its 
powerful lines. His eyes flashed like two 
sparks. 

“ Sorry I haven’t got a better place to 
receive you.” 

Bob’s eyes blurred as he reached out for 
a cigar. Lucius anticipated the movement, 
and handed him the box ; then he struck 
a light, and held it for him until the end 
of his cigar glowed. 

“ The Colonel brought these this after- 
noon.” 

Bob nodded. 

The scene was pathetically impressive — 
the iron barred window ; the chained door, 
plated with rusty iron; the bedless room; 
the single candle, and the two men in their 
riding-breeches, — looking so out of place 
with the rest of the apartment. 

Bob passed his hand across his fore- 
head uneasily. 

“ The Colonel has retained Dick Bruns- 
wick. Oh, but of course you know that ; 
for they came here this afternoon, didn’t 
they ? ” 

Lucius moistened his dry mouth with his 
tongue. 

“ Yes.” He looked at Bob. 


“ Dick 


BOSS. 


151 


Brunswick has retained Irving Bulloch. 
God!’’ he said suddenly, “how absurd 
this whole thing is I Here I am, locked 
up, and have to go through the mortifica- 
tion of a public trial for murder, and I am 
guiltless of even an unkind thought against 
that dead man. It’s too much.” 

“ Don’t worry, old chap. Of course it’s 
hard — deuced hard — damned hard. But 
everybody around here understands, and 
no jury on earth will condemn you.” 

“ It isn’t that, Bob, so much as the dis- 
grace. It’s maddening to find myself a 
mere hand-car on the railroad of life.” 

He went on with sudden vehemence ; 

“ Think of being handed up before a 
court-room of people — tried for my life, 
questioned, discussed, regarded suspicious- 
ly, my name a by-word in every negro’s 
mouth. My God ! My God I ” 

Bob listened to this impassioned address. 
He felt sick, dazed, from sympathy. 

“ Old boy,” he said hoarsely, “ it is a 

damned shame ; that’s what it is a 

a — He got up, kicked away the stool 
with his spurred boot, and strode up and 
down, with his hands deep in his pockets. 

Lucius gave a fierce sigh. 

Bob stopped abruptly in his walk. 


152 


BOSS. 


“ Have you any idea who stole your 
pistol ? ” 

“ Not the remotest.” 

‘ ‘ When did you see it last ? ” 

“ I have been trying to remember — some 
time last week. Whoever took it, got it 
from my room.” 

“ What did Dick Brunswick think of 
your case ? I rode over to his house to 
ask him ; but both the Colonel and he had 
gone over to Bulloch’s, and wouldn’t be 
back to-night. I got permission to come 
in and spend an hour with you ; am put- 
ting up across the street at Dunkins’. 
By the way, I telegraphed for Rufus to 
bring you a change ; he’ll be over to- 
morrow.” 

“ Thanks.’^ 

There was a listless pause — a silence in 
which the twittering of the birds died 
away, leaving an awful stillness behind, 
nothing to break the quiet and solitude 
of the earth. 

“ Have you heard from home ? Did you 
leave any men to look after the women ? ” 
asked Lucius hurriedly, addressing Bob, 
but looking deliberately just over his head. 
“ If you haven’t done so, why don’t you 
send a wire to Rusk ? ” 


BOSS. 


153 


‘‘ I sent one three hours ago, and one to 
Meg. I was afraid Boss might come here. 
It would be just like her. God bless her ! 
she’s mighty fond of you, Lucius,” Bob 
said very quietly. 

A fire suddenly shot into Lucius’ eyes ; 
his face grew set and rigid and he quivered 
as if he had been shot. 

“ Great Heaven ! she must not do 
that.” He spoke with the impulse of un- 
controlled fear. “ Keep her from doing 
anything so rash.” Then he turned and 
made a pretence of lighting another cigar. 
He was trying to get his calmness back. 
When he turned, his face was quiver- 
ing as with a fury. He did not resume 
his seat, but walked backwards and for- 
wards, the cords in his neck knotted and 
twisted and his lips compressed. 

Bob leaned against the wall and 
watched him with grave, sad eyes. A 
feeling of deep pity filled him. 

“ It’s pretty tough on you,” he said, “ to 
be shut within these four walls, where the 
sun never shines. As I said before, it’s a 
damned shame.” 

Lucius took two heavy strides and 
stopped by the window ; then wheeled half 
around, his arms folded in front of him, 


154 


BOSS. 


suppression written in every line of his 
face. 

“ Have you heard any more particulars 
about the murder ? ” he said at last. 
“Where was he shot?” 

“ In the throat, as well as I could make 
out ; the bullet severed the jugular vein.” 

“ Was he robbed ? ” 

“ No : his watch and wallet were found 
on the body.” 

Lucius lifted his black eyebrows in sur- 
prise. 

“ You see,” continued Bob, “ ever since 
Bill Owen married that mulatto woman, 
the whites have been down on him. My 
theory is, that one of his first wife’s family 
did it. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit.” 
Bob fixed his eyes meditatively on the 
floor, saying : “ It occurred to me, as Bill 
Lewis was his brother, and he hates you, 
that he — ” 

Lucius’ eyes glowed. 

“ Yes, but how did he get my pistol ? 
It would have been impossible for him to 
enter the ground without being recog- 
nized.” 

“ He might have bribed one of the ne- 
groes ; — thej^ would sell their souls for 
money.” 


BOSS. 155 

“ True,” muttered Lucius hoarsely, “ I 
never thought of that.” 

Bob nodded his comprehension. 

“ I knew you hadn’t. That’s what I 
wanted to see Dick Brunswick about. I’ll 
tell him the first thing in the morning. 
Look here, old chap, my time is up. I only 
had an hour, and I promised to go on the 
minute. By the way, I brought you some- 
thing to drink,” said he briefly. He put 
his hand in his breast-pocket and drew out 
a pint bottle of sour mash, offering it to 
Lucius, and saying : “ After you.” 

“ Put the spirits down to raise the 
spirits up, hey Bob ? ” said Lucius, with a 
low, harsh, thick laugh. He took a deep 
draught, and then returned the bottle with- 
out a word. 

The door opened with a bang. 

Sorry, sir — time’s up,” said the jailer, 
his voice pitched to a high key, but which, 
somehow, had a ring of good cheer in it. 

Bob’s face grew sad, with sorrowful 
affection as he put out his hand, and 
turned his head from Lucius, that he 
might not see the scalding tears. 

“ Good -night ; I wish I could hang out 
with you.” Bob drew his breath in with 
difficulty. 


15(3 


BOSS. 


Lucius’ set face changed into lines of 
tenderness. He grasped his friend’s hand 
and held it tight; then wrung it hard. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly; “thank 
you.” 

Without a word more he turned and 
found his way back to the table. Bob 
regarded him wistfully for a moment ; 
then the iron door shut and was locked. 

Lucius was alone. 

One by one the stars pierced the pale 
sky. A particularly bright one shone like 
a great watching eye between the bars of 
the window. But Lucius saw nothing ; 
his head was down, and he was holding in 
his hand a soiled pink glove. The little 
fingers, laid over his palm, showed the well- 
known shape of the wearer’s hand. 

“ Boss, my beloved ! ” he cried in agony. 
But the little stars alone heard him ; they 
alone saw the quivering of the huge shoul- 
ders. Then the strong man broke into a 
passion of tears, while the thin, gray rats 
scampered across the floor, squeaking. 


BOSS. 


157 


CHAPTER XIII. 

The next day the Boss was too ill, and 
the next and the next, to remember 
with distinctness the horrors of the past 
week. It was ten days before she was 
quite awake to the keenness of her mental 
anguish. She lay for hours looking at 
the window with blank, dreary eyes. She 
was trying to grapple with the present — 
trying to stereotype the situation upon 
her mind. She avoided talking, on the 
plea that her head ached. Her face was 
different from that of the old Boss. The 
cheeks had grown thin and pale ; the eyes 
had lost their gray brightness ; the beau- 
tiful, passionless passionate lips never 
curved into smiles now. There was a 
rigidity of suffering about them that made 
Meg drop on her knees more than once, 
and beg God to ease her heart of its over- 
mastering sense of pain. 

Meg’s was an energetic nature. As soon 


158 


BOSS. 


as she had convinced herself of the Boss’ 
feelings for Lucius, she tried to remedy 
the evil ; failing in that, to assuage the 
suffering. 

To the Boss her past happy life, with its 
winning remembrances, seemed like a 
bright dream, from which she had only 
just awakened to full consciousness. 

One morning, two weeks after Lucius’ 
arrest, Meg, who had never left her, was 
astonished when she saw the Boss come 
down -stairs and open the dining-room 
door, perfectly groomed, the soul looking 
out of her two eyes, set and resolute. The 
Boss said she was entirely well this 
morning, and added, with a dreary little 
smile, that she didn’t intend to scare them 
any more. She set her small, white teeth, 
and went about eating her breakfast with 
a heart sick and aching. 

The men had taken up their residence 
in Charlottesville, to be near the court. 
They had heard of the Boss’ illness as only 
exhaustion from over - excitement. Bob 
had telegraphed back to her, “ Everything 
O. K. Lucius will be home soon.” It was 
not the truth, but under the conditions he 
had no trouble in reconciling the white lie 
to his conscience. 


BOSS. 


159 


“ I want you to bring Sweetbrier round 
after lunch,” said the Boss to Uncle Rufus 
as she moved away from the table. 

“ Lawdy, honey, she ez lame in de lef’ 
leg uver sence de day — ” He was about 
to say more, but Meg hurriedly drowned 
his voice by upsetting her cup. 

The Boss pushed back the hair from her 
face, and said quietly, in that low, 
constrained tone one uses when one is 
determined to suppress agitation : 

“ Dear, dear old Brier! ” Then she took 
up her hat and moved towards the door. 
There was something in her face that made 
Meg follow and take her by the arm. 

“ Where are you going. Boss ? ” 

“ To the stable. I want to see Sweet- 
brier. She has never deserted me, nor 
shall I her,” she answered with gentle 
earnestness. 

As they stepped out into the garden, 
they saw, coming through the morning 
sunlight, the figure of a short man, with a 
worn, intent face that told of suffering, of 
fasting and prayers, of loss of sleep — of 
one whose eyes were turned inward, 
whose hopes were fixed in the shadow of 
a higher world. 

Meg started and blushed 


160 


BOSS. 


“ It’s John Rusk ! ” she exclaimed 
hastily. 

“Good-morning, Boss ! Howdy, Meg ? ” 
he said gently as he reached them. 

“Good-morning, John,” answered the 
Boss, stretching out her hand. The little 
parson took it in both of his and held it 
while he asked : 

“ Are you better ? I am so glad to see 
you out again ! You are sure you feel all 
right ? ” 

“Oh, yes — much, thanks.” 

John Rusk dropped her hand and smiled 
sweetly, saying. “ That’s right.” 

Meg said her first word of greeting with 
gruff abruptness. It was : 

“John Rusk, you look like a ghost. 
You’ve been up all night ; you are trying 
to kill yourself. Is that what you call 
religion ? I like more robust Christianity 
myself. ” 

For a second, he was taken aback. 

“ The Williamsons’ baby died last night 
of croup, and the poor mother was grieving 
hard. I couldn’t have left them,” he 
murmured apologetically. 

“ That’s it. It’s always somebody can’t 
be left alone — somebody ill, or somebody 
dying. You seem to forget that you are 


BOSS. 


161 


made of flesh and blood, and can get sick 
as well as another person,” Meg answered, 
almost violently. “ It’s just a shame — 
that’s what it is ! ” 

They reached the stable, and the Boss 
went inside. The little parson’s eyes 
wandered over the landscape and came 
back to Meg’s face. Her cheeks were 
flushed, a little tear trembled in the corner 
of her eye ; it brimmed over and rolled 
down her face, and fell in a big splash on 
the pink and white of her gown. 

The little parson half stretched out his 
hand twice ; but each time drew it back 
again, his eyes shining with an unnatural 
lustre. Then he drifted back into the old 
self -surrendered look, while a smile lit up 
his face. 

“For a moment I thought you were 
crying for me.” He turned his eyes to- 
wards the sky, as a long beam from the 
sun streaked his upturned face, bringing 
out the haggard lines with startling clear- 
ness, while another beam surrounded his 
head like a halo. 

Meg popped open her mouth with an im- 
patient gesture, but John Rusk shook 
his head with tender denial. 

‘ ‘ Of course you were not. I was foolish. ” 

II 


162 


BOSS. 


The next moment he started towards the 
door of the barn. 

Meg leaned forward and caught him by 
the arm. 

“ I was crying about you, and for no- 
body else,” she said, in a loud, clear 
voice. 

The man drew in a deep, full breath, and 
unconsciously interlocked his fingers. 

“ For me, Meg ? ” he said softly. 

“ Yes, for you — for you — you — you — you 
poor, old bungling fellow ! Don’t you 
suppose it hurts me to see you slowly but 
surely killing yourself before my very 
eyes ? You ought to have somebody to 
take care of you, ” she said in a little broken, 
motherly voice. 

The little parson hitched up his 
shoulders : he felt unsteady. 

“ There is only one person I ever wanted 
to take care of me, since mother died,” he 
said with a quiver in his voice. “You 
know who she is, Meg, don’t you ? ” 

Meg’s face flushed hotly. She drew a 
short, sudden breath ; then held out her 
hand in a determined little way. 

“Yes, I do know ; and, what is more, 
if after you have heard what I am going 
to tell you, you still want me, I’ll take care 


BOSS. 163 

of you — for always,” she finished in a 
jerky whisper. 

The man’s short form stood out clear 
against the light ; then he tottered un- 
steadily, his wide-open, dark eyes fixed on 
her mutely. The beating of his heart had 
doubled, and suddenly his face showed 
more color. 

“Meg,” he whispered softly, “don’t 
say it unless you mean it.” 

“Ido mean it — honest. But first I’ve 
got a story to tell you. It’s a sore point, 
I have never spoken of it but to one per- 
son, the Boss. And now to you,” she 
finished, coming nearer to him. 

The revulsion of feeling had come so 
suddenly that John Rusk felt exhausted. 
He bowed his head in silence, and then 
dragged his feet wearily, one after the 
other, until he could lean against the side 
of the barn. He was like one thoroughly 
worn out. 

Meg watched him anxiously and shook 
her head. 

“You’re almost dead. Reckon I had 
better tell you some other time, hadn’t 
I?” 

The little parson didn’t follow the words 
at first. He was overwhelmed. Suddenly 


164 


BOSS, 


he brought back his mind and smiled up 
at Meg. He spoke slowly, his voice show- 
ing the pressure he was under. 

“ Dear, God is good! God is good! He 
has given me what my heart has asked for. 
Go on, Meg ; but, before you commence, 
let me tell you there is nothing you can 
say that would ” — he stretched out his 
hands yearningly — “ that would make me 
not want you.” 

“Wait!” said Meg rather hurriedly. 
“Wait!” She moistened her dry lips 
with the tip of her tongue, then began to 
speak in a clear, concise manner. 

“ Years ago, John, when you asked me 
to marry you, I was full of going East and 
making an actress of myself, and I refused 
you. I didn’t love you as — as — a wo- 
man should love her husband — I loved 
you as a sister might, only that, and I 
told you so, didn’t I ? I was honest, 
wasn’t I ? ” 

“Yes.” The little parson stood there 
watching her, hardly seeming to breathe, 
his great love working through his frame 
— an intensely sweet love it was, that 
flooded his whole being with sunshine. 
Meg took a step nearer. 

“ Well, John, I went away. I thought 


BOSS. 


165 


of you often and wished lots of times that 
I might see you; but only as a sister, 
always as a sister. Then, John, I met 
some one one who made me forget you. 
I even ceased to remember you as a sister; 
I only cared for him ! ” Meg covered her 
eyes with her hands. The little parson’s 
face looked thinner and paler. 

“ Go on,” he said, putting out his fair, 
slender hand. It trembled and only 
reached her shoulder, but the loving pres- 
sure reassured her. 

‘ ‘ I gave him all there was to give — my 
whole heart. He was not worthy, John. 
Now I despise him. I have no heart left ; 
there is nothing inside of me but waste,” 
she stopped abruptly. Then began again 
in the gentlest of voices: “But I do 
like you, John ; I like to be with you. 
If I could care for anybody again, it woull 
be for you; and if— if you think I could 
make you happy dear, I wish you would 
take me.” 

Over the pallid face of John Eusk came 
the sweetest of smiles. He lifted his eyes 
to heaven. His lips moved, and then he 
held out his arms. 

“ Come, dear.” 

Meg walked straight into them. There 


166 


BOSS. 


was a long, long silence. It was a supreme 
moment ; the man was calling upon his 
God to thank Him. 

Not ten steps away stood the Boss, with 
her arms about the Brier’s neck, the two 
splendid heads close together. The light 
was dulled in the spirited eyes of the beast, 
and she rested unsteadily on her two fore- 
legs. The Boss lifted her mouth and kissed 
the brown soft nose. 

“My beautiful !” A light of recogni- 
tion flashed in the eyes of the mare. She 
rubbed her head caressingly against the 
Boss’ shoulder. Behind them came the 
sound of footsteps. 

“Is she injured?” asked John Rusk, 
close to them. Something in his voice 
made the Boss look around quickly. From 
his face her eyes flew to Meg’s. Meg’s gaze 
was wandering over the barn ; her hair 
was tumbled, and two scarlet spots burned 
in her cheeks. 

“ What is it ? ” gasped the Boss. “ You 
haven’t ” 

“Yes,” said Meg timidly. 

“We have,” said the little parson softly. 

The Boss’ hand met his suddenly and 
closely. 

“ Oh, John ! ” the Boss reached out her 


BOSS, 167 

other hand and caught Meg’s, with which 
she was trying to hide her face. 

“ Meg, have you told him ? ” 

The girl nodded. She was crying now 
— trembling with sobs — and her face looked 
like a pink crocus. 

“ Oh, I am so glad ! ” said the Boss, as 
a flash of delight flooded her face — “so 
awfully glad ! ” 

The little parson’s lips and eyelids were 
trembling ; then he looked up, and flxed 
his gaze on a patch of sky seen through the 
window. 

“ God is good ! ” he stammered. 

Meg was still crying, her breast heaving, 
her cheek pressed against the soft skin of 
the horse’s flank. The Boss, after a sharp 
breath or two, spoke : 

“How glad Lucius will be ! He has 
often spoken of just this thing to me. 
You must not get married until he is home 
again. It would break his heart not to be 
at the wedding. Have you heard any 
news ? ” she asked heavily. 

Meg raised her eyes abruptly, and spoke 
through her sobs. 

‘ ‘ Bob telegraphed that everything was 
going on nicely, not to worry.” 


168 


BOSS. 


“ Thank God ! ” said the Boss, throwing 
up her head with a thankful gesture. 

“Amen!” said the man gently. “I 
should like so much to go to him, but my 
place is here. He wrote me a line through 
his lawyer, and asked me for his sake to 
stay by you girls.” He put his hand 
in his breast-pocket. “ I have the letter 
here.” He drew it out and held it towards 
the Boss. ‘ ‘ Perhaps you would like to 
read it ? ” 

He handed it to her and put his arm 
about Meg, whose shoulders still shook, 
though her sobs had ceased. 

The Boss followed the lines with down- 
cast head. The words, so full of thought- 
fulness for herself, choked her. She re- 
turned the note with a sad smile, and 
glanced out over the wide green land- 
scape ; and when she returned them to the 
group beside her, there was something of 
the old sparkle in their glance. 

“He will certainly be home soon,” she 
said. 

“ Of course,” said Meg. 

“ God grant it I ” said the little parson. 

The Boss colored slightly, and moved her 
hands up and down the Brier’s mane in a 
nervous manner. 


BOSS. 


1G9 


“ Do you think, if I went over to Char- 
lottesville, that I could see him ? ” she 
went on. “It would cheer him up; it 
must be so lonely there all alone.” 

John Rusk looked at her and shook his 
head. 

“ I don’t think the Colonel would want 
you to. Boss. He is not alone ; Bob is with 
him.” 

“ Yes,” she said softly, with a sigh. “ I 
know ; I only thought, perhaps — ” But 
she never finished what she was going to 
say. 

The little parson walked over the hill, 
through the valley, across the stream to 
his home — his thin face softened to a won- 
derful sweetness, his lips moving, and his 
eyes fixed dreamily ahead of him. 

In the house he had left behind, Meg 
knelt beside her bed, her hands clasped 
tight, her blue eyes closed. She was pray- 
ing to God that a second love might not be 
impossible. 


i70 


BOSS. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

It was ten o’clock on Monday morning. 
The court-room was filled with a close wall 
of human beings. Women in fine clothes, 
men and negroes, formed abrupt waves of 
variegated color. The arrest of Lucius had 
created a sensation in the county of Albe- 
marle. 

The prisoner faced the audience like a 
graven image. He made only one gesture 
— a proud negative — when they asked, 
“ Guilty, or not guilty ? ” 

“ Not guilty,” he said, in a firm, distinct 
voice, then he folded his arms and waited. 

The court was held in a low-studded 
room, with a huge beam across the ceiling, 
and six windows, all open to catch the 
fervid breath from the streets. 

Close to the prisoner’s dock sat the Col- 
onel and Bob ; the Colonel with a face a 
shade sterner than usual, his eyes just 
tipped with the signs of anxious trouble. 
He did not hold himself with quite the old 
erectness, but stooped, as if exhausted. 


BOSS, 


171 


Next to him sat Dick Brunswick. He 
was leaning forward with his elbows on 
the table in front of him, his eyes half shut, 
his lips screwed up, and the tips of his 
fingers just meeting. 

The judge, a lumpish man, with saffron- 
colored skin, from an excess of tea-drink- 
ing, fixed his small, sharp eye on the 
prisoner with an expression not easy to 
fathom. 

The attention of the court was intently 
drawn by the proceedings. 

A man, a negro, was the first to be called. 
He testified : 

“Mehname ez Criss AUyn; I ez mar- 
ked, an’ own a farm in Buckin’ham. I 
know de prisoner — ez knowed him uver 
sence he fust come heah. I knowed his 
pa befo’ ’im. I wuz walkin’ th’oo de fields, 
leadin’ meh mar’ by de bridle, when I heah 
her snort an’ t’row up her haid, an’ right 
dar in de bushes wuz a man. He look’ 
like he sleep. Shinin’ in de light wuz a 
pistil close by a clump o’ grass. Den 
somethin’ tell me he wuz dead. I holler 
to meh ole woman, who wuz in de cart, an’ 
we bofe ob us tu’ned him ober, an’ sho 
’nuff dyah wuz a bullet-hole clean th’oo he 
troat. Meh ole woman begin ter cry, but 


172 


BOSS. 


I say shet up while I holler. By-an’-by, 
two white men, who wuz workin’ on Jones’ 
farm, cum up an’ axed what wuz de matter? 
An’ I show ’em Massa Owen lyin’ dyah 
dead. Dey axed me how it happen, an’ I 
tole ’um all I knowed. Jes’ den one o’ um 
see de pistil, an’ he pick it up an’ tu’ned it 
ober. Den he cry out, ‘ Lucius Strange, 
by Gord ! ’ I axed ’im ef dat wuz Massa 
Lucius’ pistil, an’ he say yass, an’ dat Massa 
Lucius would hang fur dat. An’ dat’s all 
I know.” 

When shown the pistol, he was asked if 
that was the one, and he said he could take 
his oath to it. 

The next witness was his wife. Her 
story corroborated the statement of her 
husband exactly. 

The evidence of the next witness struck 
a chord in the court : they started and 
looked towards the prisoner. 

He sat immovable ; an inscrutable smile 
curved his lips. 

The witness was a man, a rough laborer. . 
He said : — 

“My name is Thomas Paget. I am a 
carpenter, and live just beyond the station 
on the main road. One month ago, in the 
evening, toward six o’clock, I was coming 


BOSS. 


173 


home from work, a quarter of a mile from 
the house, when I saw the prisoner, Mr. 
Strange, talking to Mr. Owen in the middle 
of the road. They seemed to be having 
high words. As I passed them, I heard 
the prisoner say: ‘Bill Owen, you are a 
disgrace to the community — a white man 
married to a nigger! You ought to be 
tarred and feathered and kicked out of the 
county ! ’ I thought Bill Owen looked mad. 
Then I heard him say (they talked so loud 
anybody could have heard them distinctly 
twenty feet away) : ‘ If you say that again 
I’ll brain you! ’ — ‘ Oh no, you won’t,’ said 
Mr. Strange ; ‘ but take care of your tongue, 
or some day you’ll get an ounce of lead in 
you.’ He said something else, but I could 
not catch it. When I turned oif at the 
corner, I looked back and they were still 
talking, so I went on about my business. 
I told my wife when I went home that Mr. 
Strange was giving Owen the very devil, 
and she said it served him right.” 

For the first time the prisoner seemed to 
take an interest in what was being said ; 
but as the man finished he relapsed back 
into the indifference that had characterized 
his behavior from the beginning. 

Bob listened with a disgusted horror 


174 


BOSS. 


that would not allow him to take his eyes 
off the jury, nor to listen to the low, earnest 
remarks of the attorneys. His inner feel- 
ings were too intense to gather in outward 
objects. His ears were burning, and his 
under lip was caught and held between 
his teeth. At any damaging statement his 
right hand would clutch under the sudden 
stress. 

After one or two witnesses had given 
their testimony, — all bearing on the same 
subject, Lucius was placed upon the wit- 
ness-stand, — and told to state his where- 
abouts on the night of the murder, from 
the hours of twelve until five o’clock. 

“ At what time did you retire ? ” asked 
the prosecution. 

“ I didn’t retire at all. I fell, asleep 
about four o’clock, and slept until five.” 

“ How did it happen that you did not go 
to bed ? ” 

“ I had business to attend to that kept 
me up.” 

“ What sort of business ? ” 

“ I was packing.” 

“ Were you going away ? ” 

“ I was.” 

“ Where ? ” 

“ I object,” said Dick Brunswick, thrust- 


BOSS. 175 

ing his hands into his pockets and shaking 
his head. 

“Very well. What time did you get 
through packing ? ” 

“ About one o'clock.” 

“ What did you do before you com- 
menced to pack ? ” 

“ I wrote a letter.” 

“To whom?” 

“ I decline to answer.” 

“ Gentlemen, the prisoner declines to 
answer.” 

‘ ‘ What did you do after you had finished 
packing ? ” 

“ Remained in my room.” 

“ Alone ? ” 

“ I decline to discuss my personal 
affairs.” 

“On the plea that to answer would 
incriminate you ? ” 

For a moment Lucius lifted his hand 
with an imperious gesture. The crowd 
looked up as one man. Not a soul breathed. 
He struggled for a moment, and those who 
were nearest to him saw him shut his teeth 
hard, while a new color touched his cheek. 
Then he said, with careful quietness : 

“Yes.” 

As Lucius spoke the Colonel glanced up 


176 


BOSS. 


at him ; then bowed his head, breathing 
deeply. 

Bob shook his big shoulders and wiped 
his brow. 

The prosecuting attorney put his thumb 
to his broad snub nose, and his huge jaw 
set itself in a smile of infinite malice. 

Dick Brunswick frowned, and leaning 
over to his colleague said : 

“Damn !” 

Then he blew his nose again and again. 

After that there was more tiresome ex- 
aminations. The invidious acrimony of 
the prosecuting attorney made Lucius out 
a violent criminal, a wantonly cruel man 
— a man who, without any provocation, 
seemingly for no reason but a Cainish de- 
sire to kill, had taken a fellow-man’s life. 
His cunning brain had woven a network 
of such incontestible proof that before the 
day was out Lucius’ conviction seemed 
inevitable. 

“For God’s sake, old man, speak out ! ” 
pleaded Bob, whose face looked distorted 
from the long strain. It was the after- 
noon before the final examination — just 
the hour that creeps between sunset and 
twilight. 

“ What do you say, sir ? ” Lucius turned 


BOSS. 


177 


to the Colonel, who was standing with his 
face to the window. You could see the 
quivering of the Colonel’s huge shadow 
thrown by the departing sun on the blank 
wall opposite. He turned ponderously and 
placed his hand heavily on Lucius’ 
shoulder, his fine old face pale to the very 
lips. 

“ What do you say, sir ? ” again asked 
Lucius. 

“ I don’t know why you are silent, but I 
have enough confidence in you to under- 
stand to speak means dishonor. Don’t 
speak.” 

Lucius squared his shoulders in instant 
relief. He had known before what the 
answer would be, but he felt better having 
heard it. 

“ Nor would I have you do anything dis- 
honorable, Lucius,” said Bob. “ I was in 
hopes ” 

Lucius put out an untrembling hand 
and stopped him, a wonderful sweetness 
gathering in his voice. 

“ Say no more. Bob ; you would do as I 
am doing. God bless you, old man ! ” 
Just then his voice trembled a little. It 
was the first sign of weakness he had 
shown ; then the lips grew set and stern 
12 


178 


BOSS, 


again, and he turned the conversation 
pointedly aside. During the short time 
allowed him he spoke only upon the matter 
of business — things he wanted attended to. 
All this with perfect outward calmness. 
He told them where to find his will, and 
what he wanted done with certain pieces 
of property, until they shook hands at 
parting ; and when the last echo of their 
heel-taps had died away, the hard lines 
about his mouth returned, and the dark 
shadows grew under his eyes. He ex- 
tended his arms wide and threw them 
back, then let them slowly fall. Suddenly 
he came to himself with a start, for he 
heard a voice he loved, still invisible, say, 
“Thank you, in about an hour.” He 
moved swiftly across the room, and met 
the little parson at the door. John Eusk 
grasped his hand tremulously, and faltered 
in his greeting. 

“ God bless you ! ” he said. 

“ God bless you ! ” said Lucius. 

“ I would have come before,” said John 
Rusk — Lucius was looking deep into his 
eyes — “ only I knew you would rather I 
remained with the Boss.” 

Lucius’ big hand tightened on his 
visitor’s slender one. 


BOSS. 


179 


“ Is she well ? ” he asked softly. 

“ Yes, only broken-hearted over your 
arrest, though she has no idea half how 
serious it is.” 

Lucius let the little parson’s hand slip 
from his fingers. 

“That’s right. She must not know,” as 
his voice grew hushed and grave. “ I wish 
to heaven I could keep her in ignorance 
until after it is over — one way or the 
other.” 

John Rusk sat down on the stool and let 
his thin arms fold across his lap. 

“ You love her,” he said. 

Lucius turned quickly, his head erect, 
and his full face turned towards the ques- 
tioner. 

‘ ‘ As my very soul— far better than my 
life ! ” 

The little parson ran his hand nervously 
through his hair. 

“ She loves you just as dearly,” he said 
with a sensitive fiush. “I was afraid of 
it for a long time, and lately I have been 
sure. Any one to look into her sad eyes 
would see it ; everybody except Bob — poor, 
generous, lovable Bob ! Do you know ? ’ 
he continued, watching Lucius yearningly 
“ that she followed you on horseback the 


180 


BOSS. 


entire way to Charlottesville the day you 
were arrested. It was the ’’ 

Lucius leaned against the wall. He was 
looking down at the little man, but was 
entirely oblivious of him. He was follow- 
ing his own emotions, and the world had 
passed quite away from him. 

John Rusk drew a long sigh, and con- 
tinued : 

“ It was that — the fatigue and the long 
fast — that made her ill.” 

The abstraction passed away from 
Lucius immediately, and he gave an inar- 
ticulate cry of pain. 

“Was she ill ? Is she all right now ? 
Was it serious ? Tell me, John, is she all 
right ? Quite well — you are sure ? Don’t 
deceive me, old man, especially now. I 
would rather know the truth. Tell me,” 
he finished, so wistfully interrogative. 

The little parson turned his saddened 
face upon him with a soft look in his eyes : 

‘ ‘ She is all right, Lucius, as far as her 
health is concerned ; but her mind, of 
course, is troubled.” 

Lucius took in a deep, full breath ; the 
dilation contracted in his eyes, though the 
hand against the wall still quivered. 

A slow, winning smile crossed his face. 


BOSS. 


181 


“ I haven’t congratulated you, and Meg 
too; that’s the best piece of news I have 
heard this month. I was afraid you were 
going in for old bachelorhood, but am 
thankful my fear was ungrounded.” 

“Yes, I am to be congratulated. I am 
a very lucky man. God has given me 
more than I deserve,” said the little parson 
with much simplicity. 

“ I have made my will, John, and have 
left the cottage to Meg. I thought, — oh, it’s 
only in case the worst comes to the worst, 
— and it’s always well to be prepared, you 
know. I thought it would please the Boss 
to have Meg so near her. You can use it 
for a hunting-lodge, or” — Lucius almost 
laughed— “a play house for the children.” 

“ I pray it may be God’s will that it will 
never leave your hands,” (with a sudden 
trouble in his throat.) “ The way of our 
Father is past finding out.” 

Then there was a little pause. 

“ Lucius, you are a grand fellow! — You 
are bearing yourself under this severe trial 
— like — the noble man I have alwaj^s 
known you to be ; — a trial that would crush 
or harden most any other nature. Your 
courage is sublime ; — your strength seems 
to grow with the increasing danger.” 


182 


BOSS. 


“ I have done no wrong,” answered 
Lucius quietly ; ‘ ‘ why should I weaken ? 
I am the victim of fate. I am watching for 
the next move. It’s like a game of chess 
played by inexperienced hands,” he broke 
of grimly ; then began again ; — 

“ Don’t let’s talk of myself ; the subject 
has been worn threadbare. I have other 
more important things to speak about — the 
Boss.” He went to his friend and laid his 
arm about his neck. “Of my Boss,” he 
said so tenderly, as a flash lit up his whole 
face. “I leave her in your care, John. 
Watch over and guard her as your life. She 
will marry Bob, and in a few years my 
memory will have faded like the voices in 
the night. It’s then that I want her to And 
in you what I would have been to her, had 
I been permitted to continue a part of her 
life. Promise me, John — promise that she 
will always And you ready, willing to be 
her very good friend.” 

The little parson listened to the grave, 
sad voice, and then looked up into the 
white face, which the confinement had 
deprived of all its rich brown color, and 
said solemnly: 

“ I promise.” 


BOSS. 183 

The magnificent pair of shoulders drooped 
lower over the insignificant ones. 

“ If I should be convicted and sent away, 
I will be deprived of all my personal effects. 
I have a glove in my pocket that belongs 
to her. I want you to take it back to her. ” 

The little parson was completely over- 
come with grief now. He was listening 
with his eyes toward the floor. 

Lucius took him by the hand. 

“ I have loved you dearly, John, and 
your friendship has been a precious boon 
to me. I have been proud to be your 
friend, to walk by your side — you good, 
courageous John. It is only in times like 
this that a man realizes what it is to have 
a friend like you. Don’t cry, old boy.” 
His own voice was faltering and broken — 
a power of human love brooded in his pas- 
sionate eyes. 

“ If I could help you, Lucius — if I could 
give my life, I would do it willingly to save 
you.” 

“ I believe you.” Lucius turned away: 
they were both striving to control them- 
selves. 

John Rusk got up feebly, and looked 
visibly shrunken in his threadbare cleri- 
cal coat. 


184 


BOSS. 


“Good-night: God bless you, and bring 
you through this safely ! ” he stammered. 

“ God bless you, and good-night ! ” re- 
peated Lucius huskily. He understood 
the pain and grief of the little parson ; for a 
like grief had caught at his own heart. 


BOSS, 


185 


CHAPTER XV. 

“And Lucius sent me no message?” 
asked the Boss, with her hungry gray eyes 
fixed with strained directness upon Bob’s 
face. 

“ Yes, he told me to tell you that he was 
in no danger whatever, and for you to 
keep your promise. O Boss ! ” Bob fal- 
tered, for he could keep up the farce no 
longer, “Boss, it wasn’t so. We’ve been 
telling you a lie. As sure as we are stand- 
ing here, Lucius will be convicted, the ” 

The Boss stood and stared at him, a 
frozen, animated figure, with eyes that 
dilated, showing almost black against the 
greenish pallor of her face — a pallor that 
reached her throat. Her fingers were like 
yellow wax, and her nails had the bluish 
tint of the dead. She opened her mouth, 
and repeated stupidly over and over again 
the words Bob had uttered. 

“ You told me a lie— ‘ sure as we stand 


186 


BOSS. 


here, he will be convicted.’ You told me a 
lie — you told me a lie ! ” 

“My God, darling!” cried Bob, laying 
his hands upon her shoulder as she swung 
backwards and forwards, “ don’t look like 
that — let me carry you to a seat.” 

“ Let me be — I am trying to collect my 
reason.” 

She tore his hands away with icy fingers, 
and slipped backwards. “Trying to re- 
solve what — what is to be done — if it 
isn’t too late.” Her arms hung down 
by her sides, and in the short space her 
cheeks had sunken, the white forehead had 
grown lined and heavy, and the black 
shadows deepened under the staring, 
straining eyes. 

Bob watched her breathlessly. He could 
have choked himself for having told the 
truth. Now her expression frightened 
him, for he realized suddenly that she had 
been more ill than they were aware. His 
beautiful Boss was growing old while he 
watched her. 

She sank upon a chair near by. 

“ When will the verdict be rendered ? ” 
she asked, in a diflScult unmodulated voice. 

“ Summing up of the case commences 
at nine o’clock ; it may last two or three 


BOSS. 


187 


hours. Then the case will be given to the 
jury. It may take all day or longer ; it 
all depends,” Bob whispered across the 
space that separated them. 

The Boss leaned forward, her elbows on 
her knees, her face between her hands. 
She tried to ask a question, but something 
thick and strange in her throat prevented 
her. Presently she made a great effort 
and raised her head, as a scarlet flood 
rushed across her cheeks and forehead. 
She fastened her restless, eager eyes upon 
Bob’s face. 

“You say he will surely be ” The 

strained voice broke suddenly. 

“ God help us ! Yes,” answered Bob 
helplessly. 

“ And you, when do you go back ? ” 

“ Immediately. I was worried about 
you, dearest : so I stole away, and I’ve 
been riding since two o’clock. I’ve ordered 
a fresh horse ; he will be around at once.” 

“ I am going back with you,” she said 
hoarsely. 

“ Hush, Boss ; it is impossible.” 

“ I am going with you,” she reiterated 
between her set teeth. 

“Boss darling, listen.” 

“ I am going with you ! ” she cried wildly. 


188 


BOSS. 


“ I tell you I will ! You needn’t try to 
prevent me. Nothing under heaven can 
do that now. I’ve been a coward, and you 
— you have been criminal. Listen! If 
anything happens to Lucius, as you hear 
me, if they hang him, his death will lie at 
your door. You have fooled me with your 
lying telegrams. I am going, I am going ; 
and if I get there too late” (she struck 
her two hands together) “ I’ll kill myself. 
You hear ? What’s the matter with you ? 
Why do you look at me so ? I’m sane I 
Oh yes, quite sane — only — O my God I my 
God I my God ! ” Then she threw herself 
upon her knees, and buried her face in the 
Turkish rug, tearing at the satin pillows 
with her little nails. 

Bob watched her, dizzy with dismay. It 
was impossible to reconcile this passion- 
tossed woman with his splendid, stately 
Boss. He thought suddenly that she was 
ill, and a certain conviction came into his 
face. It was the delirium of fever. He 
must call Mammy, and they would send at 
once for the doctor. He stretched out his 
hand toward the bell. 

Suddenly a great calm fell upon the girl. 
She got up and faced him, as she lifted her 
hand with a gesture of command : 


BOSS. 


189 


“ Don’t ring! ” 

With the other hand she steadied herself 
against the wall. 

“ Forgive me,” said she, softening under 
his sad gaze. “I am weak ; your news 
was overwhelming. Don’t mind me, Bob. 
Only I mean what I said ; I am going with 
you. Lucius was our best friend, — yours 
and mine ; and — I — I — we would never 
forgive ourselves if we were not near him 
in the great trial of his life. You must 
take me. Bob. You love me, don’t you ? ” 
She tried to smile, but the stiffness of her 
lips prevented her. “ If you love me, take 
me along.” 

Bob remained speechless, with his hand 
upon the bell. Presently he moved to- 
wards her. 

“ Do you mean this, really ? Do you 
know what you are saying? We have 
twenty-five miles to ride — not in a buggy, 
but on horseback. We will get there just 
before daylight. You are not well enough. 
Don’t ask it,” he pleaded. 

“Bob, you love me, don’t you ? ” 

“ Yes,” he answered, beside himseK. 

“ Then take me.” 

“ You are crazy, I believe.” 

“ No, I’m sane. Do as I ask. I am go- 


190 


BOSS. 


ing anyhow, but I would rather go with 
you.” 

“ Very well,” he said between his teeth, 
“ go and get ready.” 

“ Thank you. Bob,” she said with pant- 
ing eagerness ; “ thank you ever so much. 
Bob, I should like you to kiss me. Always 
remember, dear, whatever happens, I was 
very, very fond of you. I appreciated 
everything you ever did. You are noble. 
Bob. Always remember that I knew it 
from the first ; always knew it — always.” 

Bob never realized how she left the 
room. He watched her dully. He felt as 
if he were part of a dream, caused by a 
disordered mind. 

Her beseeching voice was ever present 
with him. Like an echo, it dominated 
his after life. In all the long years ahead, 
if he had only known then, — if he had 
only known — 

As he turned towards the mantelpiece. 
Mammy entered the room. She came 
through the door leading from the pantry, 
which she carefully closed and locked 
behind her. 

“Massa Bob, Rufus say yo’ ain’ eat 
nuffin’ sence befo’ day. Gord ! yo’ 
stomack mus’ be alternatin’ wid yo’ back- 


BOSS. 


191 


bone.” She pushed a chair forward, and 
eased him into it as she would have done 
a child. 

“ Yo’ ez tremblin’ like a fiddle-string. 
Eufus, he ez scared mos’ to deaf about 
yo’, wid dat long fas’. Yo’ look like yo’ 
ain’ got a drap o’ blood in yo’ veins. What 
ez de matter ? Ez yo’ skeerd, honey — sho’ 
nuff ? 

“ Tiddy boy — Tid-dy,” she called, throw- 
ing wide open the brilliant polished 
window, and jamming her yellow ban- 
danaed head against the woodwork in her 
hurry. 

‘ ‘ Don’ rar’ yo’sef so skittish — bring dat 
julip heah Massa Bob ez perishin’ wid 
honger.” She drew back her head and 
moved towards the door, then swung 
around slowly and looked at the silent 
figure in the high-backed chair, the pic- 
ture of physical fatigue and mental suffer- 
ing. 

“Dyar kyahnt nobody beat Rufus 
makin’ juleps,” she spoke with proud con- 
viction. “ Gord mout, nobody else.” She 
moved nearer the door, then came back a 
step because he hadn’t noticed her. 

“Ain’ yo’ hongry, Massa Bob?” she 
asked. 


192 


BOSS. 


Bob raised his head with a sudden sort 
of leap, and passed his hand over his brow. 
He had been listening to quick steps over- 
head. He had not heard one word. 

“What are you saying, Mammy?” he 
asked slowly. ‘ ‘ I didn’t hear you. ” 

Mammy tossed her head with a sniff. 

“I am sorry — I was thinking ” he 

finished wearily. 

Mammy surrendered to the sad voice, 
and prepared to compromise. 

“ I axed yo’, ain’ yo’ hongry ? Dat’s 
what I say.” 

“ I don’t know — am I ?” 

“Ob cose yo’ ez, heah, y o’ tame tom- 
cat,” she cried, snatching at the julep Eu- 
fus presented at the door. Just then some- 
thing in the old man’s tired, pathetic face 
recalled Cerity, and she paused and shifted 
uneasily from one foot to the other. 

“ Honey, will yo’ bring in de ham an’ 
de biskits, reach in yo’ han’ onder meh 
apun an’ git de keys, de big one wid de leetle 
hole,” she said, with wonderful tenderness 
in her voice. For Mammy to allow any 
one to go near the sacred precincts of her 
pantry, was a mark of especial attention. 

Eufus appreciated the honor, and the 
languid form became suddenly alert. 


BOSS. 193 

“Will I brung de cream togerr wid de 
ham bone ? ” he asked confidentially. 

“ I dunno — yes, — yes,” she repeated. 
“ you mought.” 

Eufus disappeared. 

Mammy set about fixing the side-table 
with a plate and knife and fork, then took 
up the julep and placed it beside the plate. 
Next she brought out a brilliantly polished 
tin with the remains of a rice pudding, 
deliciously eatable in its appearance. 

Bob watched the movement of her yel- 
low-palmed hands with unseeing eyes. He 
was noticing the change in the footsteps 
upstairs, the heavy tramp of the riding- 
boots from the soft click of the French 
slippers. 

When the ham and biscuits were laid 
out. Mammy whispered to Uncle Rufus : 

“ I ez feared he’s sick ; I ain’ never see 
him act like dat befo’.” 

He’s jes’ sturbed ’bout Massa Lucius,” 
Rufus returned the whisper. ‘ ‘ He look 
like he ain’ sleep nor ain’ eat sence he lef’ 
home, an’ po’ Miss Boss don’ look like she 
kyahnt cry no mo’ ; her eyes look grevous. 
Hit mek meh feel tossified.” 

“Come on, honey’!” Mammy said to 
Bob; “come on an’ eat comfobul. You’s 

13 


194 


BOSS. 


got a long ride befo’ yo’. Yo’d better fill 
yo’sel full o’ vituals.” 

“Thank you, Mammy. I wish you 
would make the Boss eat something, too. 
She’s going with me. It’s not my fault, ” he 
hastened to explain, as he noted her horri- 
fied eyes. ‘ ‘ She says she will go, and she 
means it.” 

“ Name o’ Gord ! what she tinkin’ ’bout? 
Honey lamb, whar ez y o’ ? Gord ! Gord ! 
she sut’n’y ez crazy,” she cried, running 
to the door and panting heavily up the 
stairs; “she sut’n’y ez sho’.” 

The Boss and Bob had left behind ten 
miles of the twenty-five. For an hour no 
word had been spoken between them. 

From the first, the Boss had drifted into 
the nightmare of her thoughts, only to 
start back into the sudden consciousness 
of another’s presence beside her own. 
Through the dark hours of the night she 
knew she must face the awful spectre that 
had arisen. 

To-night she was the Boss, the honored 
daughter of Colonel Cameron, respected 
and beloved ; to-morrow, a disgraced, lost 
creature. After that— blank ! 

The girl never doubted the truth of 


BOSS. 


195 


her father’s teaching ; she knew that dis- 
honor meant death. Her father would 
not be able to recall her memory with any- 
thing but horror. With her own disgrace 
she had pulled down about her the time- 
honored heads of her ancestors. Her 
shame would be her father’s, and that of 
all her race. Colonel Cameron was the 
most admired man in the community. 
Every one knew his principles, and she — 
his daughter, had covered him with mire. 
But not once through all the anguish of 
that ride did the Boss shrink from the ful- 
filment of her duty. She was no coward, 
yet she felt like a woman unutterably 
guilty in her own mind. The dread proph- 
ecy of the morrow shone in her death- 
white face. 

Bob, in the darkness, could but vaguely 
see that the Boss was holding her head 
high, but with a pathetic droop of her 
shoulders. 

“I am afraid you are tired, darling, 
aren’t you? ” 

There was so much wistful insistency in 
his voice that the Boss turned and looked 
gently towards him. Then, all at once, 
something in his tone brought back the 
pathetic memory of the days when she. 


196 


BOSS, 


Bob, and Lucius, had travelled over this 
same road together. Her two little hands 
clutched at her breast, and her small white 
teeth struck against each other. The very 
hedges rose up like wraiths of old 
memories on either side. There was sad 
significance in every mile. It seemed as 
if her girlhood were slipping away from 
her, and that she was leaving it in every 
winding and turning of the long country 
road. 

There was a similarity, she thought, be- 
tween the path and her life. She had 
started out to go straight ahead, with 
honor for her beacon-light. But her 
strength had failed ; she had wavered from 
side to side, and then gone down grade 
fast and faster, until she had lost her way 
in the tangled labyrinth of love. 

Try as she might, she could not escape 
the terrible effect of an offence against her 
own narrow idea of right; though, in real- 
ity, her purity was unsullied. Self-ac- 
cusation was at work. She had broken 
her word and transgressed the convention- 
alities of life : therefore, in the eyes of the 
world, she would be disgraced; in the eyes 
of her father, lost. 

The sky and earth seemed to press down 


BOSS, 


197 


and hem her in. There was a sharp im- 
mediate pain in her heart. She must 
satisfy her conscience. She must expiate 
her wrong-doing. Out of the suffering 
she felt she realized the agony she must 
give. 

With dry-eyed misery, came the thought 
of Bob — dear, old, lovable, simple Bob — 
trustful, unselfish Bob. She recalled the 
days before the poisonous delights had 
spoiled forever the innocent pleasure of her 
life, making it all stale and fiat, and of her 
heart, a thing of thirst and longing. 

She was still thinking of this when they 
reached a sunken fence dividing the road. 
The part behind was lost in the density of 
the moonlit maple-trees — and that ahead, 
stretched out like some gored serpent, 
slinking back to its haunt. She had not 
put these thoughts from her when they 
stopped to water their horses at the spring. 

Presently the Boss began to speak, her 
sentences at first seemed low and broken ; 
after a while they rushed from her mouth 
and crowded fast upon one another, as if 
she were afraid to think between the lines. 

“I want you to tell me. Bob, all you 
know — everything. Why are you so 
sure Lucius will be convicted ? Now 


198 


BOSS. 


mind, don’t keep anything back. I have 
a right to know all. I am no child. I 
should have been told at first, not put off 
with falsehoods. It was your duty to have 
kept me thoroughly informed.” 

“.My duty ?” echoed Bob vaguely. He 
would have added that he wished to 
Heaven he had never told her anything; 
but the only thing he did say was, “ I 
meant it for the best.” 

“ Go on ! ” said the girl, with imperious, 
insisting eye. “I asked you to tell me 
what you know. Why don’t you com- 
mence ? Don’t be afraid ; — tell me every- 
thing — mind, everything.” 

“ There isn’t much to tell,” said Bob, 
with a sort of hopeless gasp. “ The 
evidence was so terribly damaging, and 
then, Lucius’ actions helped to prejudice 
the jury.” 

“ What actions ? ” 

“ His refusal to answer the questions put 
to him.” 

“ What questions ? ” 

“To whom he wrote the night of the 
murder.” 

“Go on 1 ” said the girl, breathing 
heavily. 

“ If he was alone in the cottage.” 


BOSS. 


199 


“ Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! ” An odd, dry sound 
came from her throat. Bob turned his 
head to stare at the Boss, almost nervously. 
She was sitting up straight ; but her shoul- 
ders shook slightly, and she was twisting 
the reins about in her fingers. The moon- 
light coming through the branches of a 
tree, streaked her white face. Her gray 
eyes were wide open. 

There was a queer empty feeling in Bob’s 
heart as he watched her. 

They rode on — down a slope, through a 
neglected meadow, up a tall hill, over a 
level road. Above the minor night noises 
came the murmuring of a creek, densely 
overshadowed by flowering shrubs. 

Bob turned to speak, but his horse 
jumped ahead, and he had to wait a mo- 
ment until he steadied him. 

‘ ‘ Boss, what is the matter, dear ? I can’t 
quite understand you to-night. ” Bob’s tone 
was well-nigh hopeless. 

The Boss ignored the tone and question, 
though his voice had the rising inflection, 
and in his eyes was anxiety. 

“ Why do you think he refused to an- 
swer ? Ah, how deathly still everything 
is,” she went on, irrelevantly. Bob,” she 
said, with wary quickness, “ why do 


200 


BOSS. 


you think he was silent about the letter 
and who was with him in the cottage ? 
Bob, who could have been with him ? 
Who do you think ? And, Bob, if there 
was somebody with him — somebody whom 
for some reason he was trying to shield — 
if — if — that person didn’t come forward 
and save him, what would you think ? ” 

“ Think ! ” burst out Bob with excite- 
ment. “I’d think him a blackguard — a 
murderer, who ought to be lynched or 
branded for life, so that no honest person 
would hold fellowship with him again.” 

Then an awful grayish pallor spread over 
the Boss’ face. 

“ You are right. Bob — but — ^but — sup- 
pose — we are just supposing, you know — 
that, to save him, that person would be 
deprived of his good name — his life would 
be ruined — the hearts of all who loved him 
crushed ; would you still say speak ? ” 

“ Certainly ! If he did not he would be 
a coward, and a coward is the lowest thing 
on God’s earth . Great Heavens ! It makes 
my blood boil to think of it ! ” 

The Boss followed his words with sick- 
ening acuteness. 

Suddenly he asked, “What do you 
think. Boss ? ” 


BOSS. 


201 


“ I have thought all along just as you 
do.” She brought out the words vehe- 
mently. Then she flung out her arms, and 
let them fall with a despairing gesture. 

“I should be ashamed of myself if I 
didn’t — deathly ashamed ; for, like you, I 
hate cowards. ” As the girl spoke, the light 
from the moon lit up her slender figure, 
swaying excitedly in the saddle. “No 
one could be such a coward, when he knew 
to speak meant to save a life. But the 
other life — the other poor life,” said she, as 
a sob broke from her throat. 

A dead branch dipped slightly in the 
breeze and tapped her on the shoulder. 
The Boss gave an unearthly scream. Bob 
grasped the reins of her horse, and pulled 
her to a sudden halt. 

“What is it?” he cried breathlessly. 
The girl steadied herself against the pom- 
mel of the saddle. 

“ Nothing — I am only nervous,” she re- 
plied, the pain, fear and misery escaping 
from her overcharged heart. “ Don’t be 
angry — forgive me. Bob ! ” 

She put out her hand and took his. It 
was full of strength and warmth. She 
was dizzy and trembling. 

Bob watched her, his blue eyes glowing. 


202 


BOSS. 


“You are ill, Presch ; I was a brute to 
let you come,” he said tenderly. 

“ I am all right ; don’t worry. I was 
only frightened,” she answered, feebly 
trying to release her hand, which, after a 
second, she left in his. She was half- 
dazed. 

Her excitement over, she sat up very 
straight, still holding fast to Bob’s wrist. 
Thus they rode on together. 

Presently she looked up at Bob. ‘ ‘ There 
is nobody so good and true as you,” she 
said with great tenderness. She put up 
her hand with a little inviting gesture. 

Bob leaned over and kissed her cheek. 

“ After to-morrow you must rest, dar- 
ling ; your head is so hot.” 

The Boss started, an incredulous horror 
in her face. In her mind she pictured a 
court-room, full of people, and her father’s 
beautiful old head crushed upon his hands. 
She saw it there in front of her, on the 
side, everywhere. 

“ Daughter ! ” he was crying, always, 
“daughter! Oh, my daughter! ” Then she 
touched her burning head with her hand. 

“Rest, after to-morrow! Oh! Oh I 
Yes, there will be rest after to-morrow,” 
she thought. Such a long, long rest I 


BOSS. 


203 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The summing up of the case was over ; 
the jury had risen to their feet, prepara- 
tory to leaving the court-room. 

In their eyes, as well as in those of the 
people, Lucius Strange was a murderer. 
His counsel’s efforts, as well as his won- 
derful oratorical outburst, had been una- 
vailing. It was unanimously believed that 
Lucius had deliberately killed Bill Owen. 

Suddenly, in the midst of the silence 
that usually precedes the judge’s charging 
of the jury, a messenger was seen ap- 
proaching Dick Brunswick, holding a note 
conspicuously in his hand. Fora moment 
the court-room suspended its breathing. 
Through the quiet came the rustling of stiff 
paper, as his quick fingers tore open the 
envelope. When he had read the note, he 
jumped to his feet, looking suddenly boy- 
ish ; then his long legs took him, with one 
unbroken stride, over to Irving Bulloch, 
who rose to receive him. For a moment 


204 


BOSS. 


they held a whispered conversation, and 
seemed strangely excited to the anxious 
spectators. Presently, Dick Brunswick 
left the room. The atmosphere tingled 
with expectation, and a fresh buzz of ex- 
citement ran around. 

Irving Bulloch faced the judge, and re- 
quested that the jury might retain their 
seats for a few moments longer, as some 
very important evidence had been handed 
in. 

“ The fact is, your honor,” his pompous 
voice triumphant and full, “we hope to 
prove an alibi.” 

From the crowded court-room, volatile 
as are all multitudes, burst a wild hurrah 
from the whites. 

As Lucius heard this he started back. 
A convulsive tremor ran through his form 
— a tremor as of one recoiling from a terrible 
blow. His face changed to an ashen gray, 
and around his mouth was a great line of 
anguish that stretched beneath and be- 
yond his thick moustache. 

“Oh, my God ! Oh, Christ ! ” 

He put his hand over his eyes. There 
was a bursting weight of pain at the bot- 
tom of his heart. His body staggered in 
the chair, then jerked in a sudden spas- 


BOSS. 


205 


modic way. In his mouth there was a 
taste of blood, for he had bitten his lips 
almost in two. He was aroused to the 
agony of consciousness by the loud un- 
compromising monosyllable of four letters, 
‘ ‘ Here. ” He heard a low, hoarse murmur ; 
— then a struggling silence— then a whisper 
of excitement that made the room quiver ; 
then a groan from an old man’s suddenly 
withered throat. 

“ Daughter ! ” 

With a pain like that of a tooth gnaw- 
ing a hole in his breast, he saw a girl in 
a Kahkee riding-habit, her hair in tight 
braids, like a close copper cap, her face as 
white as the dead — who, as she heard her 
father’s voice, staggered as if she would 
fall, then rallied and move forward, with 
a reeling step like the movement of one 
suddenly stricken blind. She steadied 
herself against the side of the witness-box; 
then crept along nearer, nearer, nearer, 
until she reached the centre of the rail. 
As she looked up and caught the myriad 
of eyes fixed upon her, she shrank back 
and looked wildly around, as if she were 
seeking some means of escape. The blood 
rushed furiously to her head ; her heart 
beat like the strokes of a hammer. Through 


206 


BOSS. 


the din in her brain she heard Dick Bruns- 
wick’s voice — a voice she knew so well, 
the tones expressing hut feebly the horror 
and emotion he felt at the situation. 

“ Your name ? ” 

Twice she tried to speak ; twice she 
failed. The third time she answered, but 
her voice sounded so strange she thought 
some one had spoken for her over her 
shoulder. 

“ Mildred Lee Cameron.” 

In a low, hoarse voice Dick Brunswick 
began his examination. 

The girl glanced at Bob with intense wist- 
fulness ; then at her father ; then shivered, 
and finally began to answer. The sen- 
tences fell from her dry lips with startling 
distinctness, despite their tremor and ex- 
treme rapidity of utterance. Only once 
had she to struggle for breath — when she 
looked at Lucius. For him she was giving 
herself up to public earthly shame. She 
had undertaken the sacrifice — she would 
do her part well. 

The Colonel sat like a statue and gazed 
at his child, stupefied with amazement and 
suffering. His eyes were pent-up hell- 
lights. 

Poor Bob’s head was a whirlpool ; his 


BOSS. 207 

body felt as limp as a sponge. He was 
breathing deeply. 

When the Boss came to the night of the 
murder, she said : 

“ Mr. Strange was going away. I felt 
he was leaving without saying good-bye. 
It must have been twelve o’clock, or very 
near it. I was just about to retire when 
my old nurse told me of his departure. I 
hurried over to his cottage at once. When 
I looked through the window I saw he was 
on his knees. He was packing, I think. 
When he looked up and saw me, he begged 
me to go away. It was all my fault — 
every bit of it. I refused to. I told 
him I had come to say good-bye, and I 
would not go back until I had talked to 
him. Why, he didn’t even want to help 
me through the window. I came in that 
way, because it faced the vegetable-garden, 
and I was afraid they might see me from 
the big house if I went in by the door. It 
was all wrong — I know it ; but the thought 
of his going — of my never seeing him again 
— never hearing from him — never know- 
ing if he were alive or dead : you can im- 
agine that I forgot everything else. Al- 
ways, though, he begged me to go back to 
the house ; but I told him I had come to 


208 


BOSS. 


bid him good-bye, and I would not leave 
until I had finished what I had to say.” 

Then the girl shot a piteous glance at 
her father, and spread out her hands as 
if for some one to take them. After a 
second, she continued ; 

“You can readily see it was my fault — 
every bit of it. When he saw I was ob- 
stinate, he stopped urging, and we talked 
I don’t know how long. It must have 
been hours, for the first thing I remember 
the clock over in the big house struck four. 
Then Lucius — I mean Mr. Strange — in- 
sisted upon my returning at once. After 
that I helped him to pack a few things, 
and when I left the cottage the day was 
just breaking. That is all,” she finished 
gently. “ I have told everything, and you 
quite understand, don’t you ? You are 
satisfied, aren’t you, that he couldn’t have 
committed the murder — because — because 
— I was with him all the time — every hour 
— every moment.” 

“And why, may I be permitted to in- 
quire,” broke in the sneering tones of the 
attorney for the State, “ did you withhold 
such important evidence until the eleventh 
hour ? ” 

The Boss turned in the direction from 


BOSS. 


209 


whence came the voice, but she looked 
with unseeing eyes. She had caught a 
glimpse of her father, pallid with the 
wrath of a strong man, sitting motionless 
in his chair. His face was rigid, and the 
whites of his eyes were streaked with red 
veins of blood . His hands twisted together, 
like one seeking pain in the body to elim- 
inate pain in the mind. Within thirty 
minutes he had passed from hale, hearty 
manhood to decrepit old age. She wrung 
her hands in agony as a ray of intense sun- 
light fell across his face, and brought into 
prominence its haggard outlines. 

“ I knew nothing of how matters stood 
until last night. I had been kept in ig- 
norance. Do you think I would have 
stayed away if I had known ? No, no, 
no ! — a thousand times no ! ” 

That half hour of horrible publicity was 
a whole lifetime of torture to Lucius. 
Every tone of shame and despair in her 
voice seared into his brain ; every plea for 
mercy to the father that would never 
forgive ; the jeering laugh ; the sneering 
voices ! He felt as if all his being had 
passed out of him into hers. As she con- 
tinued, and he saw the white face grow 
whiter, the little hands strain at the 
14 


210 


BOSS. 


knuckles, his throat became paralyzed 
with anguish, his suffering insupportable. 
His brave, beautiful Boss, true as steel. 
God ! If he could only help her ! He felt 
as if he should scream aloud. There was 
a pricking pain in his head, and his back 
ached as if from long leaning in the same 
direction. 

Suddenly it was all over ; the Boss was 
free to go. She had given her life for 
Lucius; there was nothing else to be done. 
She stepped out of the witness-box with a 
cautious tread as though she were walking 
along the jagged edge of some precipice. 

Through the exulting uproar of the 
crowding, gaping multitude she crept for- 
ward with palms outstretched, as if feeling 
her way. As she found the knob of a door, 
she opened it and let herself out, closing it 
softly behind her. 

Bob crouched in his seat and held his 
breath, saying over and over again : 

“ What is the meaning of it ? What is 
the meaning of it ? ” 

Then he crouched still closer, as the 
entire truth shot full into his heart. As 
the deep vibration of the last cheer rolled 
away like the echo of a bass-drum, he 
arose stiffly. 


BOSS, 


211 


“Let me pass,” he stammered, and 
roughly pushing aside the obstacles in his 
way, hurried out with stumbling step. 
His face was reddened with the stains of 
tears, as he disappeared beneath the in- 
tense brilliancy of the summer sun. 

Old Mammy stood at the half-open door 
of her cabin. She wore a pair of carpet- 
slippers and a frock, the color of an old 
pipe. She was leaning on her broom and 
looking down the road, with a vague un- 
rest in her bosom — the premonition of affec- 
tion. Overhead there was a faint rustling 
of leaves on the tall oak trees. At her 
feet a toad darted by, overthrowing a 
great ant-hill in his path. From afar, a 
cow looked at her and mooed plaintively. 
She sighed deeply, then bent her head and 
entered the silent cabin, where a repast of 
cow-peas and potato-pone, sprinkled over 
with lilac-berries, was served upon a china- 
set, covered with grotesque pictorial peo- 
ple. 

A solitary figure on horseback grew out 
of a speck in the roadway — a strange, pa- 
thetic droop to his shoulders, and his hands 
burning and fevered, as if with fire. It 
was something more than a man broken 
by age ; it was the figure of a wreck — a ruin. 


212 


BOSS, 


As he rode along, his head swayed from 
side to side. A low moan, the echo of a 
broken heart, came from between his 
cracked lips. The breeze had died away, 
and the air was quiet, but with a sullen 
menace in it. 

“ Good God ! What was that ? ” 

Was he losing his brain ? And yet he 
could not help thinking that somehow he 
had expected it : — he had known it would 
be so. 

Two iron fingers seemed to be pressing 
his throat. With a great effort the figure 
of the old man slid down from his horse 
and stood for a moment upright ; then fell 
on his knees and dragged his tall length 
steadily through the sunburnt grass — 
nearer — nearer — until he reached a clear- 
ing, where a still figure, in a Kahkee rid- 
ing-habit, lay fiat on the ground, with her 
head thrown back, the wide-open eyes look- 
ing always into his — eyes fixed in the stare 
of sudden death. The snow-white hair 
lay in dank rings upon his head ; his 
mouthed twitched convulsively. 

“ I knew it,” he said, with a sort of de- 
lirious exultation between the sharp pains. 
“ It had to be — it had to come.” 

Suddenly, a thousand memories over- 


BOSS. 


213 


took him. She was a baby again, lying 
in her father’s lap. In the front parlor 
of the big house she was laughing and 
cooing up at him, tangling her baby fin- 
gers in his fierce moustache, and holding 
her little foot in the other hand. 

Rapid pictures etched themselves upon 
his brain — the day she was trying her first 
pony, her little white piquet riding-skirt, 
rumpled up, showing her two dimpled, 
rosy knees ; the days and nights when her 
throat was sore and parched, and she was 
given up for dead. How he sat watching) 
watching, wrestling with that horrible 
dread ! 

Good God ! He was choking ! Yet — 
it was done. He could say nothing— it 
had to be ! 

He closed the two gray staring eyes, and 
crossed the brown little fingers ; then 
feebly lifted a corner of his handkerchief 
and wiped the spot where the bullet had 
made a tiny hole not far from the broad, 
white temple. Then he carefully smoothed 
the folds of her riding-skirt and braced 
himself to lift her in his arms. He carried 
her across the lawn, where the grass was 
bathed with the soft brilliancy from the 
setting sun. Twice he stopped, and each 


214 


BOSS. 


time it seemed to be without an object, or 
rather from forgetfulness of the object 
that had started his steps. Reaching his 
room he laid her down upon his own nar- 
row bed, locking the two doors and closing 
tight the blinds. Father and daughter 
were alone. They were destined to be 
alone for evermore. 

All night he lay across the feet of his 
child. His body shaken with spasms, and 
his arms stretched across the bed from 
edge to edge. He was facing his life be- 
hind and his Maker ahead. 

At the first streak of half -veiled dawn, 
he took down his gun from the rack ; then 
drew a ring from his finger, and slipped it 
on the hand of his child. After this, he 
crossed them back upon her breast. For 
a moment he gazed down upon the slender, 
beautiful face of the dead, then fingered a 
stray lock of hair. 

“It is the only thing left,” he said wist- 
fully. Suddenly he felt thirsty and drank 
two glasses of water, one after another ; 
then picked up the gun that he had laid 
down, glanced at the end of the barrel, and 
raised the hammer. It was loaded. 

“It is the only thing left,” the words 
only just grazed his lips. Reaching over, 


BOSS, 


215 


with the butt of the gun on the floor, he 
pressed the trigger. There was a white 
puff of smoke, and the hissing bullet went 
straight to his heart. As he fell, his white 
hand touched his daughter’s face like a 
benediction — then plunged downwards. 

Through a broken slat in the drawn blinds 
a flood of golden sunlight fell caressingly 
upon the two still figures, as they lay side 
by side. But the drawn blinds kept their 
secret well. 


FINIS. 





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